


Tickle Tantrum

by XVnot15



Category: Mirandy - Fandom, The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 58,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XVnot15/pseuds/XVnot15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for he DWP Challenge Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in November 2009.<br/>Prompt 11:  Miranda/Andy. Tickling. Miranda Priestly has a hidden fetish that no one has ever known about, until her Andrea.  Okay I realise I’ve taken a very broad view of ‘fetish’ in fact actually not going with the fetish part but just using tickling, but this is one of three ideas that suggested themselves from the prompt. And I do actually know someone who has the same problem I’ve given Miranda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do not upload copies of any of my fanfic anywhere online. I do not give permission for my work to be archived anywhere other than my own AO3 account, my own FF.Net account, Passion & Perfection, Royal Academy of Bards and my personal journalling accounts.
> 
> A/N 1 I’ve veered from the movie in the cardinal way of having Andy not leave Miranda or Runway in Paris. And Yes I realise I’ve used a very tired and overused prop to facilitate the action in this tale, but hey, that’s why they’re overused. Pfft.  
> A/N 2 I freely admit that a particular phrase that is used near the start of this fic is similar if not the same to phrases, and images in at least a dozen other fanfics, but they were not in my mind when I started writing this piece. And come on kidlets, the film is called The DEVIL Wears Prada, so it’s hardly a surprising coincidence now is it?
> 
> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to whoever wrote or owns DWP, lucky sods. The characters etc. aren’t mine but I’d sure as hell put in a bid if they ever came up for sale. No profit, yadda, yadda, if TPTB didn’t know what to do with the characters they should have consulted the Rabid Lesbian Horde, yadda, jabber, rhubarb, I dare ya to sue me, I’d love the opportunity to read femmeslash smut out loud in court.. Pfffftt!

Miranda Priestly had spent the previous two decades assiduously cultivating the demanding and intimidating persona that was the Editor in Chief of Runway magazine. She demanded perfection from herself and all those who worked for her, and never, ever, settled for less. This focused, single-minded dedication and complete intolerance for mistakes or shortcomings had justly earned her a number of less than flattering sobriquets, Ice Queen,  Dragon Lady, and Demon Bitch from Hell among them.

However, in the two months since her return from Paris Fashion Week, and the advent of her third divorce, those who worked for her had decided that the she wasn’t just a visitor from the underworld, nope, she was in fact, the Devil incarnate, and the Runway offices were the 9th circle of Hell itself.

She was now officially impossible to please, no matter how hard everyone worked to produce the perfect and the unachievable. Every single run through had had to be done at least twice and most of them three and even four times before she would send them off with a withering condemnation and the clear understanding that they had only succeeded because of the pressing matter of print deadlines.

Every day the Book was returned with its weight nearly doubled by the number of post-its with Miranda’s scathing notations slashed across them. The font was never right, the colour combinations garish, the layout repetitive, the accessories excessive, the editorial puerile and the entire art department incompetent. Three layouts had been trashed completely and the entire theme of the May issue dismissed as trite, infantile and beneath inclusion even in Just Seventeen, never mind Runway. The fact that Miranda was the one who had conceived the idea in the first place was, of course, never even thought about, let alone mentioned by the hapless inhabitants of Inferno Central.

On the 5th floor of the Elias Clark building, Human Resources were considering mass suicide as they scrambled to replace the massive haemorrhage of personnel that had either been fired by Miranda directly, or who had quit of their own accord, seeking their redemption in the most expeditious way possible.

Unsurprisingly, considering they were the ones who spent the most time with Miranda, the sharpest edge of the editor’s temper was continually being honed in her interactions with her assistants. The two young women were quite used to the mass of hectic errands, the landslide of lightening fast instructions, the miniscule clues to Miranda’s every whim, the complete lack of any indication of appreciation and even the fairly regular slicing comments and dismissive gestures, all these were their daily bread.

But now, oh now it was a whole new arena, an arena much like the Coliseum of old, and Miranda was the lion to Emily and Andy’s Christians. No stream of instructions, no command or demand was given now without a predictive scathing comment on the likelihood of their being carried out correctly coupled with a thorough history of every failure by each girl to date. 

In addition to the unkind comments, Miranda had started speaking more and more quietly as her mood worsened through the days and weeks. At times she was so quiet it was only the visual clue of her lips moving that alerted them that she was in fact speaking, and both assistants were straining to accommodate this newest torture technique as best they could.

Andy’s response was to ensure she was always as close to Miranda as possible in order to best catch her words, that and her ability to lip-read, a skill acquired when she was a Girl Scout, were standing her in good stead. She did sometimes wonder if getting close enough to someone just to hear how useless and incompetent she was supposed to be, was actually worth the effort. But then she would catch something in Miranda’s look, a fleeting glimpse of pain, confusion or worst of all, a heart stopping defeat would ghost over the older woman’s features. When she saw this, she was immediately back in that Paris hotel room, back with the fragile woman and not the adamantine icon. And remembering the lost look, the uncertainty and the red- rimmed eyes that were dammed against the onslaught of tears, she would dismiss her own hurt and concentrate on the request made of her back then, that what she could do for Miranda was, her job.

Emily on the other hand, was developing a very active tic in her left eye as she struggled to decide which was the lesser of two evils, trying to figure out what Miranda had said and getting it wrong, or asking Miranda to repeat herself and being killed on the spot. She had even dropped the use of her favourite mantra, because she realised only the Grand High Llama of masochists could claim to love her job as she was now experiencing it. She was getting progressively desperate for ways to cope with the situation. Nigel had even caught her Googling hearing aids while she waited for the Book one evening.

No doubt about it, things were bad, and there was no end in sight. It appeared that working for Miranda Priestly had permanently become the ‘get out of purgatory free’ card for anyone brave enough to stay with the magazine.

******


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N1 Thanks to my very own Lady Wife for being a darling and beta reading this, course I did some effective bribing with coffee and teacakes, heheh.  
> A/N 2 Miriam Haskell is a real jewellery designer who worked in New York in the early and mid 20th century. Her work was considered quite avant garde and the company still exists today under different ownership but still producing some of her designs. My idea about her and her successors not working with carnelian is entirely made up. Here’s a link to learn more. http://www.house-of-francheska.co.uk/vintagehaskell.htm

Andy had become adept at juggling dozens of bags of clothing samples and trays of coffee and moving at a respectable pace at the same time. Today she dashed through the late afternoon New York traffic at break neck speed, almost as if the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels. The irony of the situation was that far from fleeing from hell, she was in fact headed back to the very heart of Hades, currently located on the 18th floor of the Elias Clarke building.

In her current rush to get back with Miranda’s coffee and the fruits of her dozen or more errands, she hit the revolving door so fast she spun into the foyer like a mini cyclone, and sprinted for the elevators. With a final burst of speed she lunged between the already closing doors slamming her shoulder into the far wall of the car, just managing to keep the tray of piping hot coffees level and only dropping 2 of the 8 bags she carried.

“Very nice Six, quite athletic really, what do you do for an encore, a cartwheel?” Nigel smirked at her as he picked up the two fallen bags.

“Hmmm, that was so funny I forgot to laugh Nigel.” The harried brunette struggled to straighten up as best she could, and held out her left hand shoving three more bags into the older man’s arms.

“Just for that, you can take these into Miranda, the black bag should get you a really interesting response. The Miriam Haskell necklace and broach collection is all turquoise not carnelian, and I do mean all of the collection. Apparently, Ms Haskell never worked with carnelian, she hated it because it reminded her too much of the colour of blood, and as Mr Fialkoff prides himself on staying true to the original designer, he never uses carnelian either.”

Nigel’s face paled and his eyes grew large as he gaped at Andy in disbelief and outright terror.

“Tell me you’re kidding. Please just tell me you’re punishing me for my bitchiness and....” he trailed into silence as Andy shook her head looking every bit as grim as Nigel felt.

“Shit. How the hell did this happen? She’s going to... the whole 4 page spread is... all the backdrops... the whole edition is...we’re due to shoot next week!”  He shook his head, “Shit!”

“Yes, I agree, shit! And we’re the ones who are going to end up shovelling it.” She set her remaining bags down and began fixing her flustered appearance. “And this happened Nigel, because our new, three weeks into the job, accessories Editor either doesn’t know how to do her job, or more likely was too damned petrified to tell Miranda she couldn’t have the colour she wanted for the Haskell spread. Mr Fialkoff assures me that he was very clear when she was making the arrangements, that the only original collection currently available was Haskell’s 1932 Studies in Turquoise grouping. What the hell was the woman thinking?!”

Andy had spat this out through gritted teeth and then picked up the bags at her feet as she prepared to enter the Dragon’s den, certain that she and Nigel would be the next fair maidens to be burnt to a crisp by the flames of the Beast of Runway.

“I’ve already called and told Francesca that she should notify her next of kin, because Miranda isn’t just going to fire her, she’s going to dismember her and probably you, me and Emily into the bargain!”

With that grim prediction still ringing in the air, the elevator doors opened and Andy and Nigel froze in their tracks at the sight of Miranda marching straight for the elevator at high speed and with fire in her eyes. The two hapless employees looked at each other, their thoughts a perfect mirrored terror, _“She knows already! Shit!”_

Without a word spoken, Miranda yanked Nigel through the doors, grabbed the bags and tray of coffees out of Andy’s hands and literally threw them at the floundering man just before the elevator doors slid shut hiding the now drenched, coffee coloured and hopping up and down in pain fashion director from view.

Inside the descending car Andy stared wide eyed with terror as she started to stutter out, “M...Mi...Mir...Miranda, I kn...know it w...wi...will...”

Miranda raised her finger stopping the young woman’s frantic spluttering. Glaring her intent to have silence, she put on her sunglasses and turned to face the doors. Arriving on the ground floor but barely waiting for the doors to fully open, the fashion diva swept into the lobby with a decidedly wobbly Andy following in her wake.

Roy was waiting with the town car and the back door held open, as Miranda slid into the back seat she hissed out two words.

 “My lawyers.”

And then she slammed the door closed, wrenching it from the man’s hands without preamble. The bewildered driver looked at Andy with questioning eyes.

“I don’t know Roy, I don’t know what’s happened, but whatever it is, it’s bad.” The man nodded his head and followed Andy to the other side of the car, opening her door for her at the same time as his own.

Andy slid in and across the seat so that she was as close to Miranda as she could be without actually touching the older woman. She had an inkling that if Miranda spoke at all, it was likely to be almost sub-vocal given her current mood and being beside the editor meant she wouldn’t be able to get much from trying to read her lips. She watched in her peripheral vision as Miranda removed her glasses and set them in her lap as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. As unobtrusively as possible Andy pulled her pad and pen from her bag and waited.

***                

Miranda had burst from her office five minutes after receiving a call from her soon to be ex-husband, informing Emily she would be gone for the rest of the day and that Roy had better be waiting for her by the time she got downstairs. On instinct Emily had already headed to the coat closet the moment she’d seen Miranda in the doorway and turned back just in time to feel Miranda grab her bag and start moving down the hallway.

Emily remained frozen in front of her desk holding Miranda’s coat as she watched her boss quickly recede from view, moving almost faster than she thought was humanly possible in four inch Prada heels. A moment later she was jolted from her paralysis by a shouting sound coming from the direction of the elevators. Looking up, she fell back onto her desk at the apparition of the brown splotched and dripping man that appeared in front of her dropping several slightly damp bags at her feet.

“What the bloody hell happened to you?” the red head asked as she hurried Nigel into the kitchenette and handed him a towel.

“Thanks,” came out in muffled tones as Nigel scrubbed his face and then the front of his shirt. Looking at the back of his left hand he saw the red mark where some of Miranda’s scalding hot latte had splashed onto unprotected skin and went to the sink to run some cold water over the injury. When his hand was numb he wrapped it in a clean dish towel and sat down heavily in the empty chair behind him, squirming a little at the feel of his damp trousers clinging to his thighs.

Emily, who had brought the bags with her, was carefully checking their contents to make sure nothing had been damaged, as she laid them out on the table. When she got to the black Heskell Studios bag she saw that one of the jewellery boxes had a liberal splash of brown across the lid and carefully opened it to see if any coffee had seeped inside. Seeing the ornate turquoise necklace her eyes snapped to Nigel in horrified question.

“Nigel, this is turquoise!”

“I know. They all are, and Haskell doesn’t do any carnelian work. None, nada, zip, zilch.”

Emily sat down opposite the damp man and sighed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Is this why you’re covered in what I assume is Miranda’s Starbuck’s order?” she asked as she fiddled with the offending piece of jewellery.

“No I don’t think so, I only found out about the screw up from Andy in the elevator, before we got to this floor and she hadn’t told Miranda yet. When the doors opened, Miranda was just...well just there, in all her glorious fury. She pulled me out of the way and then grabbed the coffee and bags from Andy and threw them at me before the doors closed. What the hell happened here?”

Rolling her eyes, Emily snapped, “How the hell would I know, I haven’t been able to hear a bloody word the woman has said for the past 4 days! I swear she’s not actually saying anything, she’s just moving her lips, trying to torture me!”

She looked at Nigel who was blinking in surprise at her vehemence, sighing yet again she continued.

“All I know is that Stephen called and five minutes later she was on a ruddy rampage! She didn’t even take her coat and I haven’t got a damned clue about where she’s gone!”

Nigel reached over and patted her hand, “I’m sure Andy will let us know where she is as soon as she can manage it. I’m guessing that as security hasn’t been in touch that Miranda didn’t murder her in the elevator.”

Emily snorted and quite suddenly gave a slight, almost lady like belch. Blushing so that her cheeks could have blended in with the rich red hair on her head, she hastily covered her mouth as a second tiny burp escaped. Nigel blinked in surprise and looked quizzically at the woman silently asking a question. She blushed even deeper and banged her head onto the table in despair.

“Emily? Did you actually eat something today?”

“Yes.”

“What did you eat?”

“About a thousand dollars,” the red head mumbled into the table top. Nigel nudged her until she raised her head and looked at him.

“A thousand dollars worth of what?” he asked, concern and confusion lacing his voice.

“A thousand dollars worth of, _‘state of the art aural augmentation,’_ what else?”

Nigel blinked, “Um, right, in English please, it is your native language after all.”

Blushing furiously Emily explained her cryptic statement in a truly weary voice.

“I couldn’t stand her experiment in ‘mime’ communication any further, so I bought a hearing aid.”

“A hearing aid? As in grandma check your batteries kind of hearing aid?”

Emily nodded and continued, “I knew I couldn’t let Miranda actually see it, so I found one that goes in the ear, not behind it. It was about the size of a dime and flesh coloured so you can’t see it when it’s in. It arrived this morning and I was just about to put it in when Miranda was suddenly there in front of my desk.” She made a face before continuing, “I hadn’t heard her calling me and she’d come out to see where I was.”

“Annnd?”

“She demanded to know what I had in my hand that was so captivating that I hadn’t heard her shouting for me.”

Nigel couldn’t help the incredulous snort he let loose at Emily’s uncanny imitation of her boss’ words and tone.

“And what did you do?”

Emily not only blushed, she let out a small despairing groan.

“Come on, spill.”

“I... I ... I told her it was a vitamin pill.”

Nigel’s eyebrow rose, “And she believed you?”

Emily put her head back on the table and mumbled her reply.

“What? What did you say?”

She turned her head and glared at him before repeating herself.

“She did when I swallowed it in front of her.”

Nigel’s howl of laughter echoed off the walls and Emily thumped her head on the table chanting, “I hate my life, I hate my life.”

***

As the car made its way through the early rush hour traffic, the only sounds Andy was aware of were the near silent hum of the engine, the muffled sounds of the New York streets and her own rapid heartbeat. As she continued to listen however, she became aware of Miranda’s breathing, the woman was taking short staccato breaths, almost sipping the air in through her slightly parted lips. Andy wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she realised that Miranda was actively trying to keep herself calm. At the same time she realised that this had nothing to do with the Heskell shoot at all, something had happened, something that was testing the older woman’s control to its limits. Andy chanced another glance and found herself staring into blue eyes clouded with rapidly swirling emotions, anger, hurt, frustration, fear, sorrow and for just an instant panic. Without thought Andy reached out and covered Miranda’s hand with her own, gently squeezing it in sympathy but remaining silent.

Miranda looked down at their joined hands for several seconds and as she did so, her breathing evened out and became calmer and less forced. Giving a barely perceptible squeeze of her own, she removed her hand and placed it in her lap. She looked up at Andy, a bewildered expression on her face before she turned her head forward, and then glancing out the window, she put her glasses back on as the car slowed to a halt. Not a word had yet been uttered by either of them.

Miranda gathered her bag and waited for Roy to come round and open the door, she spoke quietly, but audibly as Andy wrote out her instructions.

“I need you to contact James’ mother and arrange for the girls to stay with her for the next two weeks, possibly three. They will need to leave this evening. Contact Cara and tell her that I need her to pack their things and accompany them to Connecticut this evening. Get them on the 7:30 train and see to it there’s a car to pick them up in New Haven. Inform James where the girls will be, I don’t want him to hear it from his mother first. Contact my PR rep, Leslie and tell her I will see her at 12pm tomorrow morning, my office not my home. Roy will take you back now and return for me at 7pm. I may have to cancel my morning appointments on Monday, make what preparations you can for that eventuality, I will be able to confirm any changes when you deliver the Book this evening.” She paused, looked at Andy for a moment and then continued, “That’s all.”

Roy opened the door and Miranda moved to get out, at the last minute she turned not looking at Andy she whispered as quietly as she had over the previous weeks, “Thank you.” And then she was gone and the car door was closed.

Belatedly realising that her jaw was hanging open Andy shut her mouth and fell back against the seat as she watched Miranda cross the sidewalk and enter the building. As Roy pulled into traffic Andy’s thoughts were highly fanciful, _“Who knew Dragons could be polite?”_

 

*******

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N1 Thanks to my very own Lady Wife for being a darling and beta reading this, course I did some effective bribing with coffee and teacakes, heheh.  
> A/N2 I forgot to say thank you to the wonderful Mirandy bard who first used the name Cara for Miranda’s housekeeper, I liked it so I’ve used it, forgive me that my Swiss cheese memory can’t place your name.

The law firm of Walker, Walker, Krandel & Benson had been a top-flight legal practice for some 35 years, and Miranda Priestly had been a client for 25 of those 35 years. The now senior partner, Philip Walker, had been a junior associate in his father’s company when the strikingly elegant young woman had marched into his office and demanded to know if he was competent to draw up a decent employment contract.

Young buck that he had been, he was mesmerised by her youthful beauty crowned even then with that startling white hair that would in the near future become and remain her trademark. When he finally broke out of his trance he had assured her he was more than just competent, he was the best, and proceeded to prove that point without delay. It was his contract, drafted with myriad hidden clauses and special provisions that had considerably aided Miranda to move from the position of junior fashion director to the post of Editor in Chief of Runway in less than five years.

He had seen her through all her subsequent contract negotiations, drafting the terms, bonuses, and stock options that had been instrumental in making her the wealthy woman she was today. He had also seen her through a number of personal lawsuits and of course her two previous divorces and custody battles over the girls. So it was unsurprising that Miranda had insisted that he personally handle her latest expedition into the New York Divorce Courts.

The quarter century had seen their relationship become more than that of lawyer and client, it had developed and deepened over the decades and now they considered each other the dearest of friends. They had agreed early on that despite a strong mutual attraction, they both gained far more from their solid friendship than any benefit they could envision from getting romantically entangled. 

So when Miranda Priestly barrelled into the law firm’s 22nd floor offices, she was not just there to see her lawyer, but to ask for help from her friend, one of the very few people that she felt she could truly trust.

As she stalked toward the receptionist, the young girl took one look and the standard phrase of, “The offices are closed for the day,” died before they had properly formed inside her head, certainly not one of them made it to her lips. Instinctually the girl rose from her chair, somehow understanding that she was not going to be the one who could assist Miranda and that her best chance for survival lay in finding the right someone who _could_ help the obviously seething woman.

“Philip Walker, now.” Was all Miranda said as she raised her eyebrow and began to tap her foot impatiently even as she uttered the third word of her demand.

“Yes ma’am,” the receptionist managed to squeak before running full tilt down the hall in search of Mr Walker’s personal secretary.

She knew that Mr Walker was not in the office and was not meant to return until after the weekend, but there was no way in the universe that she was going to tell Miranda Priestly that news. Oh no, no, no, she wanted to live to see her 25th birthday, let Mr Walker’s P.A. take the heat, after all as far as the young woman was concerned, Helen was dragon enough herself to take on Miranda Priestly. With that thought in mind she skidded to a halt in front of Helen’s desk taking great gulps of air as she tried to recover from her sprint.

“ Mir…Miranda… Pries…tly… re…really m…mad” she managed to gulp.

Helen Ferris looked scathingly at the dishevelled girl and curled her lip as she calmly walked past her toward the main reception area.

“When you get over your Olympic trials Felicity, be a dear and go to Starbucks will you? A Venti no foam latte, scalding hot, and as quick as you can please.” She glanced sternly back over her shoulder, “Scalding Felicity, not tap water hot as you drink yours.” And then she continued on her way.

Entering the outer office she took in the sight of a very agitated Miranda viciously shoving her cell phone into her bag. Not phased in the least, the experienced and very capable P.A. walked straight up to the fashion icon, knowing already that her boss would not be heading to the Hamptons tonight.

“Miranda, I’m sorry you’ve been kept waiting, I’ll take you to Mr Walkers office immediately. I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment, he was in court this afternoon and planned to head straight to the Hamptons after they adjourned.”

Leading Miranda down the hall she went past her own desk and opened the door into her employer’s office before continuing, “I’ll contact him immediately and let you know how long it will be before he can get here. I’ve sent Felicity for your Starbucks, I’ll be back in a moment.” Without waiting for a response, she closed the door behind her and headed straight for her desk.

Even in her current mood, Miranda couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh at Helen’s very obvious competence, nor could she stop the upward twitch of her lips as she recalled the many, many times she had tried to poach the woman from her friend’s employ. It had never worked, no matter how outrageous the financial inducement the woman remained staunchly loyal to Philip Walker, much to Miranda’s combined chagrin and admiration.

As she took a seat in the comfortable chair on the client side of the large cherry wood desk, the twitch of her lips returned as the thought came to her, that she no longer needed to test Helen’s loyalty, she had an excellent assistant of her own now.  The twitch transformed into a small but genuine smile as she thought about Andrea and how much she had improved at her job over the past four months. The transformation had begun in the months before Paris and continued after their return.  She had never actually doubted the girl’s intelligence or general abilities, only her drive and willingness to truly apply herself to doing the job she had been hired to do.

Now she was very impressed to see that despite the challenges her moods and continual scathing comments had provided, Andrea had become almost fiercely competent in every task or challenge presented to her.

What caused Miranda considerable bemusement; was how the young woman had managed to do so without losing any of her natural kindness or good nature. In fact the girl seemed to be able to harness those very attributes in order to motivate others to help her better achieve Miranda’s demands. It wasn’t that she deliberately exploited those facets of herself in order to gain what she wanted or needed; she wasn’t at all mercenary about these things. Nor was her kindness of the _‘all puppies and flowers’_ , sickly sweet variety. Miranda had overheard enough telephone conversations in the office where Andy had been both stern and unyielding with whoever was on the line to know that she wasn’t a powder puff of sweetness.  The girl was, quite simply and genuinely nice, in the best sense of the word.

Thinking of Andrea’s kind nature made her reflect on the girl’s actions in the car less than a quarter of an hour earlier, Miranda looked down and stroked the hand that Andrea had held. Even as she did so, the mere memory of that soothing touch brought her state of agitation down to a much more manageable level. How did the girl do that? Why did she do it? These were questions that Miranda filed away for later consideration, but she would get the answers.

Helen came back into the office carrying a steaming cup of Starbucks and copies of the Times and the New Yorker. She placed all of these on the desk in front of Miranda before turning to let her know how long she would be waiting.

“Mr Walker had already arrived at his home when I called, so he should be here within the next 20 to 30 minutes. Is there anything else you need while you wait?”

“No, I’ll be fine Helen, thank you for the reading material, although I’m not sure if I’ll make use of it.” Miranda said as she gratefully reached for the hot coffee, taking a sip and sighing in pleasure as the fiery liquid slid down her throat.

Helen moved over to the phone set and placed it within Miranda’s reach.

“If you need anything just press the intercom button here,” she indicated the correct button, “I’ll leave you in peace then Miranda,” and without further comment she left the other woman to her thoughts.

Miranda stood and moved to the window, looking onto the busy street below, her anger returning full force as her thoughts turned to its source.

*****

Andy had given Roy his instructions when he dropped her off, not at the Elias Clarke building, but at the Starbucks down the street. She fished her blackberry from her bag and punched the speed dial. The first ring tone hadn’t even finished when the call was answered.

“About bloody time! Where in God’s name are you? And what have you done with Miranda? _Hic_.” the derisive tones of the upset woman on the other end of the line were suddenly cut off by a quiet, but definite hiccup.

Andy held the phone out in front of her and blinked… twice, before putting it back to her ear. “Uhhh, are you okay Em?”

“Ye… _hic_ … I… _hic_ , I bloody, _hic_... _hic_... _hic_ wel… _HIC_!” there was a short pause and the sound of a deep breath, “Where are… _hic_... _hic_ … you? Mir… _hic_ … Mira… _hic_ … _hic_ … _hic_ … _hic_.”

Andy covered her mouth to muffle her giggles when she realised Emily had a major case of the hiccups. The next thing she heard was Nigel’s voice.

“Six?”

“Yeah it’s me Nigel. What’s up with Em and the hiccups?” she asked as she made her way into the crowded Starbucks and joined the serving line.

“She’s trying to recoup a thousand dollars,” Nigel dead-panned.

“She’s what?”

“Trying to recoup a thousand dollars.”

“That’s what I thought you said. Nigel, what’s going on? Is Emily actually okay?”

The genuine concern in Andy’s voice prompted Nigel to be more straightforward and explain what had happened after the elevator doors had slid shut between them.

“So there we were, me soaked in coffee and Emily trying to knock herself out on the kitchen table. I was feeling damp and miserable and decided to use Miranda’s private bathroom to shower and change my clothes.” Nigel paused at the gasp Andy made at that revelation.

“Whaat? I was soaked in coffee and it was Miranda’s fault why shouldn’t I use her shower? Besides, I figured she wouldn’t be back anytime soon.”

Andy couldn’t help but snort at Nigel’s very _‘conditional’_ bravado.

“Anyway when I came back into the break room I saw Emily drinking a glass of water and it suddenly occurred to me that swallowing the hearing aid meant that she’d also swallowed a battery and that was probably a really bad thing. I mentioned it to her and suggested she should maybe go to the ER...” he was interrupted by Andy’s concerned interjection.

“My god Nigel! Why is she still there? Call an ambulance right now!”

“Calm down Six! We don’t want you ending up with hiccups too. Emily reacted pretty much like you just did, only more, well, more Emilyish.”

“Emilyish?? What the he...oh, right, gotcha, Emilyish.” Andy warred with herself over grinning at the image of Emily probably hissing and screeching at Nigel as she tried to throttle him in a panic, and frowning in concern for her friend’s possibly serious medical condition. As was her nature, the concern won.

“So why isn’t she on her way to the ER Nigel?”

“Don’t worry Andy, she’ll be okay. When I could get her calmed down I asked her if she’d actually put the battery in before she took her unexpected vitamin. She ran to her desk and scrabbled for the box and found the battery was packaged separately. But by that time she’d started hyperventilating and the hiccups followed after that, I’d just got her calmed down and then you called and wound her up all over again.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Andy relaxed a little as she moved to the front of the line to place her order.

“Right I’ll be back in five minutes. Oh, Nigel do you and Em want anything from Starbucks?”

“What do you think Six?” Nigel’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Giggling Andy replied, “Sorry, I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t, and if you bring anything hot back Six, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Smiling at her phone, Andy looked up at the barista and ordered, “A tall coffee Frappuccino with an extra shot please, no whip.” She grinned even more when she heard Nigel’s chuckle over the phone as she paid for her order.

“Hey Six.”

“Yeah?”

“Emily would really appreciate it if you stopped at the drug store on the way back.”

“Sure, what does she want?”

“Pepto-Bismol... the large size.”

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.  
> A/N 2 For those who may wish to know, the issues I have given Miranda with regard to her emotions are related to some forms of high functioning Asperger’s Syndrome (sometimes called Autistic Spectrum Disorder). A condition with which I am quite familiar as my own Lady Wife has been diagnosed with Asperger’s.  
> A/N 3 For you non-Brits, the Chuckle Brothers a real comedy duo here, but are, well somewhat bizarre.

  

When Philip Walker entered his office some 25 minutes after he’d received his secretary’s call, he found Miranda seated in front of his desk waiting for him. As he approached, she rose and accepted their customary air kiss before settling in the chair once again.

 “I’m sorry I’ve interfered with your weekend plans Philip, but this really couldn’t wait, I needed to see you as soon as possible.”

Taking a seat beside her, he waved his hand in understanding.

“Not a problem Miranda, the weekend was a last minute thing, now what’s the problem?” He sat back in the chair waiting for Miranda to begin. His concern for his friend was written in the worry lines on his face, lines that had increased when he’d touched Miranda’s arm and had felt how incredibly rigid with tension she was holding herself.

The severity of whatever was going on was brought home to him even further as the most singularly forthright person he’d ever known, hesitated, as if uncertain where to begin. Miranda rose from her chair, walked over to the window and with what appeared to be a Herculean effort, turned back to her lawyer and began to explain.

“Stephen is attempting to blackmail me.” She looked at her friend, gratified both by the scowl of genuine anger that came to his face at this unexpected news, and also for the fact he didn’t attempt to interrupt her, just waited for her to continue. Returning her gaze to the New York skyline she proceeded to do just that.

“He called me this afternoon asking me if I’d bothered to check my cell-phone for messages. He said I’d definitely find one that would bring back fond memories and that I should call him to discuss terms after I’d had a chance to think about his little gift,” she snapped off the last word with a vicious snarl.

“When I checked my cell, this is what I found,” she took her Blackberry from her bag, tapped a few buttons and taking a deep breath she reached out to hand it over to him, but paused before she released her hold on the phone and looked him directly in the eye, her gaze unwavering.

“We’d been dating for four months and it was the first, and only time I ever stayed at his apartment.” She gave a tiny snort.  “Apparently it was one time too many.”

As she released the phone Philip looked down and his face paled as he scrambled to turn the phone off and stop the images that had been moving across the small screen. He looked up at Miranda in disbelief before sputtering.

“Jesus Miranda! Why did you show me this? You could have just told me what he was trying to blackmail you with! You didn’t… I mean there was no...” Struck speechless he slumped back into his chair.

“Stop it Philip. Of course I had to show you the video, you’re going to need to see it, the police will need to see it and when this goes to trial a whole damned Courtroom will be seeing it.” She waved her hand at his discomfort as she retook her seat. 

“You know I hate explaining myself Philip. But, I’m sorry if it shocked you, I suppose I could have given you a clue to better prepare yourself. I just, well... I just wanted the first revelation to be with someone I trust.  I felt it best to get it over with, like ripping a band aid off.” She leaned back herself now and allowed him a few moments to take it all in.

“Okay you’re right I will need to see it and the police will, but I’m going to do my utmost to make sure this doesn’t need to go to trial. And absolutely no one else in my office will be viewing it and I will see to it the police and the DA’s office limit the number of people who need to view it.” His obvious desire to help spare Miranda undue embarrassment was typical of him and his protective response solidified his place in Miranda’s affections.

“It’s a nice thought Philip, but we both know that it’s unlikely to happen that way. Stephen’s lawyer will demand to see it and between now and then there will be any number of people who will have the opportunity to leak this to the press.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, Miranda looked hurt and uncertain, even a little bit lost as she unknowingly repeated something she’d said to Andy only a few months previously.

“They can print what they like about me, but my girls, my ... girls don’t deserve to see their mother like that in the press or worse somewhere on the internet. It is so very unfair to them”

The moment passed and with a slight firming of her shoulders, Miranda lived up to both of her titles of Dragon Lady and Ice Queen, as with fire in her eyes she said in her deadliest and coldest voice.

“Stephen is over.”  Her glacial tones continued as she proceeded to clarify her meaning, “I want him in jail, and after the criminal charges I will be bringing a civil suit. I want him left with nothing! I mean it Philip, he is not to be left with one red cent!”

Moving forward in her chair she shared her outrage further.

“He thought he could manipulate me! He thought I’d be so concerned with my image that I’d hand over more than half my fortune to him! He thought he could use my feelings for my girls against me!”

She leaned back in her chair with a look of grim determination.

“I will show him just how severely he has miscalculated”

******

Secure in the knowledge that Miranda would not be back at the office for the rest of the day, Andy entered the Elias Clarke foyer much more sedately than she had earlier in the day. The security guards looked positively bemused to see her strolling toward the elevators holding only her own handbag and a single Starbucks cup.

She continued her relaxed pace when she arrived on the 18th floor and made her way down the corridor toward her desk.  Her outward calm belied the turmoil of her thoughts as she continued to wonder and worry about what it was that had Miranda suddenly so spooked. She knew it was something to do with Stephen and the divorce but just couldn’t imagine what might be so bad that the Editor had needed to see her lawyer at such short notice on a Friday afternoon. With another small sigh of concern she decided she would probably find out about it soon enough.

“Have you, _hic_ …got the _hic_ …Pepto-Bismol?” Emily demanded as she appeared suddenly from the kitchenette.

Startled, Andy nearly dropped her Frappuccino.

 “Sheesh don’t do that Em! Are you trying to give me a coronary?”  She grumbled as she moved past the red head toward the cutlery drawer beside the sink.

“Oh, _hic_...ple… _hic_ please! Given your wei… _hic_ weight, if you haven’t… _hic_ had one… _hic_... _hic_ by now… _hic_ a little shock _hic...hic...hic_ wouldn’t do it.” She bit off, determined to have her snipe at Andy despite her hiccups.

Andy turned around with a large spoon in her hand and pointed it directly at her workmate, “Hey, you might try being a little nicer to someone who has what you need for those hiccups, or I just might decide that the drugstore was closed when I went by.”

Emily continued to glare at the brunette in between trying to muffle a series of strangled little hiccups. Seeing the effects of the poor woman’s condition, Andy relented and reached into her handbag pulling out the biggest bottle of the chalky pink drink Emily had ever seen in her life. The red head couldn’t believe Pepto-Bismol came in a 32 oz size. Without a word Andy took a step forward and handed over the bottle and the spoon before heading out to her desk.

Andy booted up her computer and started to make the required changes to Miranda’s schedule for Monday. As she did so, she realised that Miranda still didn’t know about the total fiasco of the Haskell shoot. Her shoulders drooped just a bit as she realised it would be her job to tell the Editor when she delivered the book later that night.

As she considered Miranda’s likely reaction she made a note of all the staff she should call to give them warning that they were probably going to be summoned into the office over the weekend. She pointedly omitted Francesca’s name from the list, knowing that the Accessories editor’s days at Runway were definitely over, and having her show up at the office would just be putting her in the direct line of fire for Miranda’s wrath.

Finishing up with Monday’s schedule, Andy glanced at her watch before darting over to the closet and getting Miranda’s coat. She called out to Emily who still hadn’t emerged from the kitchen area.

“Em, you’re gonna have to get the phone while I take Miranda’s coat down to Roy.” She glanced back at the kitchen door, from which Emily had yet to emerge, but there was no response. Fine, if Emily wanted to sulk then more power to her, Andy had better things to do and continued on her way to the elevator.

Down in the lobby she saw Roy draw up in front of the building and hurried over to open the passenger side door and lay the coat on the seat.

“Hey Roy, here’s Miranda’s coat. I’ve called Mr Walker’s Assistant and she’ll be waiting in the lobby for you when you get there.” She smiled as she shut the door and waved him off before hurrying back inside. She was glad she’d thought to have him swing round for the coat, the late March days were warm enough, but once the sun was gone the temperatures were still quite chilly. Miranda would definitely need her coat for her journey home.

On her way back up to the office Andy decided to let Emily sulk a little bit longer and detoured with a quick trip to the bathroom. As she walked down the corridor leading to Miranda’s office she heard someone howling with laughter and just as she was about to round the corner, Emily’s voice snapped across the sound and identified the offender.

“For God’s sake Nigel, grow up! Did you think I was going to chug it from the bottle? I’m not Andrea you know!”

As the reception area came into view she stopped dead at the sight of Nigel doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face. Emily was facing away from the corridor as she busily clacked away at her computer. Beside her keyboard was a large glass tumbler with about a quarter inch of pink liquid in the bottom. The paler pink residue on the sides indicated that it had been filled to the brim. As Andy continued her approach Emily reached for the glass and finished the rest of the medicine.

Bending to assist the nearly helpless man in front of Emily’s desk to straighten up, Andy chuckled herself and asked, “Is this a new exercise regime Nigel? Lose weight with Laughter?”

Nigel continued to chortle and gasp unable to get his breath back enough to speak. As Andy patted him on the back Emily turned to continue her tirade against Nigel, and Andy let out a strangled squeak as she witnessed what had been the balding man’s undoing. Emily was sporting a shocking pink Pepto-Bismol moustache. Before she could help herself Andy too began to snicker, actually trembling as she tried to hold back her laughter.

“Oh that’s just wonderful, the ruddy Chuckle Brothers are on tour in Manhattan, I must let my nephew know, he’ll be thrilled.” Emily managed to maintain her glare even as she rolled her eyes at the giggling pair.  “You two keep on cackling, some of us have work to do.” With that she turned back to her computer.

Pulling herself together, Andy went to her desk and got her handbag from her bottom drawer. She felt around for a few seconds and then walked over to Emily’s desk and handed her a compact mirror and a pack of wet wipes.

“What’s this? Trying to give me make-up tips Andrea?” Emily sniffed dismissively at the items on her desk.

“Absolutely,” was Andy’s quick response. “I may not know much about make-up Em, but I do know that pink really isn’t your colour, not with that shade of hair.” She winked at Nigel as she sat down at her desk.

“Spoilsport.” He managed to whisper as he took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

“Pink? What are you talking about, I’m not wearing pink.” Emily grabbed the compact and jerked it open. When she saw the thick neon film covering her upper lip she let out a screech. “Nigel! You Cretin, why didn’t you tell me?!” Snatching up the wet wipes she removed the offending blemish and snapped the compact shut.

Narrowing her eyes at the still giggling man, she pulled back her arm and winged the compact at him with deadly accuracy, nailing him right between the eyes. Nigel clapped the bridge of his nose and blinked through tears of pain.

“Jesus Emily you could have put my eye out,” he whined as he continued rubbing the stinging spot between his eyes.

“Just be grateful the round one over there has a round compact,” she snapped back. Giving him another filthy look she turned back to her computer and announced, “I hate you both.

“Hey! I’m the one who gave you the heads up! And stop making cracks about my size, I’m not fat.” Andy protested indignantly

With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders Emily continued typing as she replied, “No.  Shant.”

******

“Okay Miranda, that should be enough for the moment. I’ll just see if I can get through to Captain Cragen in the Special Victims Unit.” Philip looked up from the notes he’d been taking as Miranda had described the key points of Stephen’s actions to date.

“The Special Victims Unit?” Miranda raised an eyebrow in question.

“It’s  the unit that investigates crimes involving sexual assault, the very young, or the very elderly, as well as any crime loosely connected with any of the three.”

“I wasn’t assaulted Philip, believe me it was completely consensual.”

“But you didn’t consent to being filmed Miranda, and that falls under the “loosely connected” aspect or their remit.”

“Fine, I’m sure you know best. Make your call Philip.”

He pulled the phone closer and placed the call, managing to just catch the Captain before the end of his duty. He filled him in on the main facts and agreed to a time for Miranda to be interviewed.

“Thank you Captain, your assistance and your discretion are greatly appreciated. We’ll see your people tomorrow then.” He hung up the phone and focused on Miranda.

“As you’re not in any immediate danger he agreed that it would be sufficient to send two detectives to interview you tomorrow at 11am at the townhouse.” He wrote the details of the meeting into his diary when something occurred to him.

“Are the girls with you this weekend?”

Miranda glanced at her watch before answering, “No, I’ve sent them to their grandmothers for the foreseeable future.  I don’t want them in town when this hits the headlines. Even if by some miracle we manage to keep the video footage from the press, it will still be pandemonium when Stephen is arrested. I want them as far away from that as possible.”

Knowing how important the twins were to Miranda and how protective she was of them, he wasn’t surprised to hear that she’d already seen to their needs.

“Right, that’s definitely for the best I’m sure. I’ll be there just before 11:00 to fill you in on some of the details the detectives may need to know and to prep you as much as possible. Once they’ve interviewed you we’ll have a better idea of how they’re going to proceed and I’ll walk you through what will happen next.”

He paused for a moment and looked steadily into her eyes as he assured her, “Just as you said Miranda, Stephen is over. The bastard won’t know what hit him.”

“I have every confidence in you Philip. If there’s nothing else for the moment I’ll be on my way, my driver should be here now.”

“No, there’s nothing more for now,” he rose and escorted Miranda to the door, just before they reached it, he placed a gentle hand on her arm and said quietly, “I’m truly sorry this has happened to you Miranda.”

She looked at her long time friend and read the sincerity in his eyes before leaning in to give him a very real kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you Philip, you’re a dear friend and I appreciate your concern.” She patted his hand before she gently disengaged his grip on her arm.

When they exited the office, Helen came up to them and handed Miranda her coat, who took it with a look of utter surprise on her face.

Seeing the look of surprise, Helen explained. “Your assistant Andrea rang me and asked me to pop down and collect this from your driver when he arrived to pick you up. He’s waiting for you in front of the building.”

Miranda nodded her thanks to the older woman and put on the coat, thinking all the while that it was very thoughtful of Andrea to have sent it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then Miranda.” Philip continued to walk with her to the firm’s entrance doors. Miranda nodded and before exiting she wished Helen a good weekend.

As she travelled down from the 22nd floor she began buttoning the coat against the chilly spring evening; her pleasant thoughts of the woman who had sent it giving her a small reprieve from the less than welcome thoughts about Stephen and her current situation.

******

Nigel had made good his escape from Emily’s disapproving shoulders very soon after being hit by Andy’s compact, and Emily spent the remaining 20 minutes she stayed in the office, pointedly ignoring Andy as she concentrated on her computer.

She wasn’t actually working, she was instead frantically Googling the calorific content of both Pepto-Bismol and miniature hearing aids. While she was relieved to discover that the hideously pink medicine was calorie free because it contained no sugar, oils, or proteins, she was becoming frustrated at not finding any information about the hearing aid.  She finally decided that no information must mean no calories and shut down her computer for the night.

With a final sniff in Andy’s direction she left the office. As she travelled to the lobby she sent up a heartfelt prayer to any deity that might be listening that Monday would contain considerably less mortifying incidents for her than this day had.

Left waiting for the book Andy fell into her normal routine of a Miranda-less and Emily-less office, she turned her computer’s i-tunes selection on and made herself a cup of tea. When she entered the kitchenette to boil the water, she noticed the Haskell bags on the table and opened one of the boxes to have another look at the bracelet it contained. She lifted it out of the box and held it to her wrist, noting that it was incredibly beautiful. Putting the chunky turquoise piece back, she thought again that it was a real shame that the pieces couldn’t be used just because of their colour.

The kettle whistled at this point and she looked over to the stove, noticing the gas flame under the old fashioned appliance that Miranda had insisted on having. With that glance an idea began to form about how they might be able to salvage the June issue and use the Haskell collection to help do it.

Taking her tea back to her desk, she began to do some research, scribbling notes on her pad as she surfed the net for inspiration. The Book still hadn’t been delivered by the time she’d finished her tea but she didn’t mind as she looked over the notes she’d just made, there were some definite possibilities there, she just didn’t know if Miranda would like any of them.

As Andy continued to wait, her thoughts persistently began to focus on Miranda and her extreme behaviour during the day and in the preceding weeks. Her constant annoyance bordering on, and many times tipping over into outright anger, had been draining for everyone around the demanding woman. It was something of an epiphany when Andy realised that it had probably been just as draining for Miranda as it had for everyone else. It had to be tiring to sustain that level of tension and anger all the time she thought.

Sighing she looked at the clock which read 8:30pm, and rang the production department only to find out that it would be at least another half hour maybe more before they had the Book ready. With nothing else to do she decided to write some of the overdue e-mails she owed to various family members. She prided herself on keeping up with her parents and her brother, making sure to send them e-mails at least once a week. But it had been a while since she’d written to her grandmother or her Aunts or cousins.

Scrolling through her family e-mail file she came across one from her Aunt Virginia that had been sent over a month before and to which she still hadn’t replied. She opened it and read all the news about her uncle’s new snowmobile and how her aunt was convinced he was going to drive it into a tree any day now, about how her cousin Phoebe had finally decided on what to major in when she started college next September. The final bit of news had been about her cousin Martin and how he’d been involved in a major study being conducted by the Autism Society of America. The study had focused on comparing the experiences of teenagers who had been diagnosed with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder and offered training and help before they reached puberty with those who were diagnosed during or after puberty and therefore had had less support in dealing with their special social communication needs.

As she thought about her cousin, her mind flashed back to Miranda’s face when she was in the car with her earlier in the afternoon. She remembered the rapid change of emotions that had skittered over the older woman’s features as if she wasn’t sure which one to stop and engage with. As she thought back further she remembered witnessing a similar emotional kaleidoscope on her bosses face in a hotel room in Paris over two months earlier.

She realised now that the struggle that had played itself out in Miranda’s features had been a little bit familiar to her, it was very similar to how her cousin had looked when he was in a hyper emotional state and struggling to process several emotions at once.  Her aunt had explained to her that one aspect of Martin’s Aspergers Syndrome was an inability to _“do”_ more than one emotion at time. This meant in times of emotional tumult he would focus on the emotion he felt best equipped to deal with and suppress all the others. In Martin’s case the emotion he worked with was sadness, it was what he felt safe expressing.

Her aunt and uncle had learned that while their son’s condition didn’t allow him to process and express more than one emotion at a time, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have or need to experience the full spectrum of emotions. It just meant he needed some assistance in managing an outlet for the unexpressed emotions to be released. They learned the consequences of Martin not being able to vent those suppressed emotions the hard way; before they discovered how to help him, if he was overwhelmed by several emotions at once he would go into a meltdown where he wouldn’t be able to communicate and where his body would freeze and go completely rigid. He’d actually given himself a hernia when he was five years old just from the tension his body had been exerting.

It suddenly struck Andy that this was a damned good description of how Miranda behaved emotionally, only it would seem that Miranda’s most easily accessed emotion wasn’t sadness, it was anger. And her version of a meltdown could be seen in the instances when she went completely rigid and pursed her lips so tightly you could hardly even see a white line, the times when she went totally quiet for long minutes at a time, or as Nigel referred to these times, when she went into her _mini ice ages_.

She realised her cousin had been fortunate to have parents that understood there was something more serious going on with their son than just normal “growing pains”. They’d taken him to specialists and gotten not only a diagnosis but instructions on how to help Martin cope with his condition. She remembered how they had learned to help him vent his excess and tangled emotions and how this had improved both his emotional and physical health. The first time she’d seen their method of help she’d been completely shocked, but she’d also seen the results afterward and couldn’t deny that the method worked, and continued to work if subsequent instances she’d witnessed were anything to go by.

Andy was brought out of her ruminations by the thud of the Book being deposited on her desk and the short mumbled apology offered by Merv the copy boy. She powered down her computer and gathered her things along with the Book and headed toward the elevators for the final time that day. As she walked a crazy thought went skittering through her mind. _“I wonder if Aunty Gin’s method would help Miranda out?”_

The doors of the elevator closed and she began her descent as she gave a loud snort and said out loud. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna happen! I’ll just walk up to Miranda Priestly and start to tickle her. Oh yeah, definitely...NOT!”

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1 For those who may wish to know, the issues I have given Miranda regarding her emotions are related to some forms of high functioning Asperger’s Syndrome (sometimes called Autistic Spectrum Disorder). A condition with which I am quite familiar as my own Lady Wife has been diagnosed with Asperger’s.

******

Miranda entered the empty townhouse and immediately hung her coat up before making her way into the kitchen. The Friday evening traffic had been absolutely appalling and it had taken nearly 40 minutes to travel the relatively few blocks from her lawyer’s office to the townhouse.

She decided to bypass the grilled chicken Caesar salad Cara had left for her, and aimed instead for the bottle of white Merlot resting where she’d left it last night. Taking the bottle and a glass she made her way back through the house and up the stairs towards her bedroom. She knew she’d have at least an hour, and possibly two, before Andrea would arrive, and decided that she’d try to relieve some of her tension with the wine and a soak in a warm bath.

Less than an hour later Miranda was bathed, dressed in a casual pair of slacks and a simple tunic, her make up re-applied and seated on the divan style couch in her downstairs study waiting for the Book. She’d stayed in the bath for a mere 20 minutes, unable to relax even with the aid of the wine.

The tumult of emotions still warred within her for some kind of release, and she instinctively concentrated on the anger, allowing it to build and crowd out everything else. The magnitude and sheer number of these emotions; hurt, betrayal, embarrassment, shock, guilt, depression and others, made her struggle to process them harder than she’d ever before experienced. The conflict was further complicated by the fact that the true object of her rage, Stephen, was beyond her reach at the moment, so her anger had nothing immediate to hand upon which to focus.

With her feelings in freefall Miranda found she was unable to stay still and began to stalk the confines of her study, her movements far too erratic to be described as pacing.  She paused momentarily to refill her glass with the last of the wine and carried it with her as she continued her prowling.

This went on for another 15 minutes or so and just as she finished the wine and set her glass down she heard the sound of the front door opening and Andy arriving with the Book. As the sounds continued, indicating that she was putting the dry cleaning away in the closet, two distinctly different sets of feelings prompted Miranda to a singular response. In the first instance she felt a sense of relief that Andy was once again close by and in the second she found her carefully fostered but unfocused anger zooming in on this now available target. Not sure which emotion she would act on, Miranda called Andy into the study.

Andy had just closed the closet behind her and was gathering her courage to approach Miranda with the news about the Haskell problem when she heard Miranda’s voice calling her into the study. Unknowingly imitating Miranda’s split emotional prompting, Andy felt both a sense of relief that she had been invited into Miranda’s study rather than having to enter it uninvited, and an added sense of dread because of not knowing what Miranda wanted to see her about.  Straightening her shoulders Andy said a prayer and headed toward the Dragon’s den.

Rounding the doorway Andy nearly bumped into the still prowling Miranda managing to just stop a collision by leaning back sharply and whacking her head against the door frame. The pain made her eyes water as she tried to right herself.

“Where is the Book?” Miranda demanded.

Disoriented and blinking back small tears, Andy started to stumble over her response, “I...in the, I mean it’s where…”

Miranda’s glare bore down on the unsettled brunette. The near miss and Andy’s stuttered response decided Miranda’s emotional direction; anger, safe and familiar, would be her haven.

She spoke, her voice heading toward arctic temperatures.

“Is it beyond your capabilities to both walk and carry things at the same time now Andrea? Are you incapable of finishing a sentence without getting lost?” she sniffed derisively when Andy failed to answer.

Andy blinked the last of the stinging tears out of her eyes and turned without a word to go and retrieve the Book. There was no way she was going to fall into the trap of feeding Miranda’s bad temper. She returned to the study to find Miranda sitting at one end of the couch, her arm whipping out to take the Book the second Andy crossed the threshold.

Putting the precious mock up into Miranda’s hand Andy could feel the tension coiling in the seated woman’s body. Holding Miranda’s gaze, Andy was moved once more to see a look of extreme hurt and then confusion ghost over the older woman’s face as she unthinkingly continued to maintain her grip on the Book.

Seeing and feeling Miranda’s obvious distress, Andy wanted desperately to do or say something that could help ease that distress.

“Miranda, is there anything I can do?” she asked in a voice made soft with a tenderness that appeared to surprise both of them.

For a split second Miranda’s expression wavered but then her eyes narrowed and she wrenched the Book from Andy’s hand as she shot up from the couch.

“What an interesting question Andrea. What can you do? Can you tell the difference between cerulean blue and turquoise? No, I think not. Can you follow simple instructions such as, give me the Book? Apparently not.”

Miranda moved forward forcing Andy to take a step back as the litany of failures continued to fall from her lips.

“Can you manage to correctly spell one of the most well known clothing brands in the world more than 50% of the time? Can you get a more than lukewarm latte to my desk on time? Can you go even ten minutes without giving someone that revolting, syrupy Mid-Western grin? Can you manage to achieve a decent grade on a child’s school project? Cassidy’s ‘C’ in Science says no that is beyond your meagre capabilities. Can you manage to even dress yourself decently without Nigel picking out your outfits?

Andy took another step away from Miranda as the angry woman continued her tirade. She could see Miranda’s clenched knuckles whiten and her arms flexing as her body continued tensing with each passing second and her face began to take on a ruddy hue as her breathing came in short gasps. Ignoring the hurtful and scathing comments pouring from Miranda’s mouth, Andy became seriously worried that the older woman might have a heart attack or stroke if she continued in this manner.  

In a moment of epiphany Andy realised just how much the older woman had come to mean to her, how much she genuinely cared not for the editor in chief of Runway, but for Miranda, the woman behind the icon. She saw as through a crystal that for the past six months at least, everything she had done had been to make Miranda’s life that little bit easier, both personally and professionally. At the crest of this wave of revelation she even saw that her desperation to find the Harry Potter manuscript hadn’t stemmed from a fear of losing her job, but much more from the desire to see to it that Miranda wouldn’t have to disappoint her beloved girls.

In a final flash of knowledge Andy realised that she was head over heels in love with Miranda Priestly, and the idea of Miranda suffering as she so obviously was, stabbed straight at her heart. She knew she had to do something, anything to help the woman she loved.  

She watched as Miranda, who had continued her outburst at Andy, put the Book down on a coffee table so that she could bring both her hands into play as she ranted on, her face still a deep red.  Andy made her decision, come hell or high water, firing or actual injury, she was going to help Miranda release her dangerous build up of tension and anger.

Back straight and intent firmly in place, the young brunette advanced on the unsuspecting Miranda. As she entered Miranda’s personal space, she offered up a quick prayer that the older woman was ticklish in at least one of the obvious places. Reaching out she stopped Miranda in mid stride and spun her round till they were face to face.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Miranda demanded, too shocked by Andy’s physical proximity to make any move to pull away.

“Miranda, you may fire me for this, but believe me, it’s for your own good,” and with that she grabbed at Miranda’s waist trying to get a decent grip before the shock could wear off and the Dragon lady could show her claws. With a little effort Andy managed to work her way under the designer tunic and graze her fingers over the bare skin of Miranda’s ribcage. This brought the older woman out of her shock and she began to struggle to get away.

“Are you mad Andrea! Get off of me this instant!”

With a strength that caught Andy by surprise, Miranda pulled away from her, the force of the older woman’s action making Miranda tumble backward onto the couch. Andy took a deep breath before lunging after her and making another grab for Miranda’s waist.  She managed to get one hand under the tunic and start to tickle in earnest from waist to ribs and back again as Miranda squirmed and struggled under her.

Andy realised that Miranda’s movements weren’t due to ticklishness on Miranda’s part but more of an attempt to get away from what she probably believed was a crazed and insane employee. She tried the next nearest standard ticklish spot and dug her fingers into Miranda’s armpit as best she could, suppressing a shiver of her own as she grazed the older woman’s breast in passing.

With a mighty heave Miranda managed to push Andy to the floor and tried to regain her feet but became tangled in the throw that had wrapped itself awkwardly around one arm in her struggle with the younger woman.

Andy lunged again and threw herself perpendicularly over Miranda’s midsection and made a grab for the next known ticklish point, the back of the knees. As she struggled to get her hand behind a bucking leg, Miranda’s struggles became truly frantic and her elbow came sharply up and straight into Andy’s left eye causing her to fall to the floor once more.

“That does it, you’re gonna be tickled if I have to die in the attempt!” Andy snarled as she lunged once more for the back of Miranda’s knees, knowing she was on to a winner from the strength of the older woman’s reaction to the last attempt.

This time Andy pinned Miranda down using the whole of her body and reached to Miranda’s knees with one arm as she maintained her balance with the other. Miranda began to alternately squeal and giggle as Andy ran her fingertips behind the squirming woman’s knees again and again. Between the spasms of laughter and squeals of torment, Miranda begged her to stop, but Andy was relentless and continued on until the older woman was truly crying in her physical distress, the tears pouring down her cheeks unchecked.

The younger woman allowed this crying to go on for several minutes as she very gradually lessened her tickling movements. Andy also slowly adjusted her position so that she was lying beside Miranda instead of on top of her in order to allow the distraught woman in her arms to draw breath more easily.

 Miranda continued to cry even after the tickling had completely ceased, and Andy who had worked her way round so that she was behind her and actually cradling Miranda in her arms was now stroking her back and arms with gentle reassuring caresses.

As Miranda cried she gulped out phrases between her sobs that she obviously needed to voice. Andy understood that the references to _‘the bastard’_ and _‘betrayal’_ and _‘I’m ashamed’_ and her own _‘blindness’_ must be referring to the unknown situation with Stephen, but the odd reference to _‘so kind’_ and _‘how does she know that’_ and _‘I don’t understand’_ , were complete mysteries to her.

Miranda’s great heaving sobs eventually gave way to a gentler but steady crying and then that too began to lessen to intermittent sniffles. Andy could feel that Miranda’s body had lost its’ unbearable tension and was resting gently against her own. To Andy’s pleased surprise the older woman made no move to try and leave the shelter of Andy’s arms. Indeed at one point she had pulled Andy’s arm around the front of her own waist and held it there lest the younger woman try to take it away.

Andy glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece and was shocked to see that more than an hour and a half had passed since she’d first arrived at the townhouse, and Miranda had spent at least a full hour of that crying. She looked down at the now silent woman in her arms and a wave of tenderness washed over her at the sight.  Miranda’s hair was mussed, her eyes swollen and red, as was her nose, streaks of mascara ran down both cheeks and her nose had been dripping almost as prodigiously as her tear ducts. To Andy she had never looked more human or in a very important way, more beautiful than she did right at that moment.

As Andy continued to watch that beloved face, she knew that Miranda, when she came more to herself would be quite distressed about her appearance, so she looked around the room in search of a box of tissues. Finding no sign of any tissues within sight, she was pondering what to do when she remembered that she’d popped the pack of wet wipes from Emily’s desk into her jacket pocket. 

Disengaging her hand from under Miranda’s she reached into her pocket and brought the packet out laying it on Miranda’s hip. Andy took a few of the damp sheets out and gently began to clean away the mascara and other signs of Miranda’s cathartic weeping. She took out one more at the end and held it to Miranda’s nose and without instruction or hesitation Miranda cleared her nose into the sheet Andy held for her. Andy gathered the used towelettes and placed them out of site on the end table before gathering Miranda into a light embrace

Miranda continued to look into Andy’s eyes, seeing clearly the depth of the younger woman’s feelings for her and letting some of her own feelings through in response. She reached up a trembling hand and traced first one dark eyebrow and then the other before trailing her finger down over a cheekbone and over to full red lips. As she rested her finger there, Andy gently stroked that famous lock of white silk off Miranda’s forehead and tucked another stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Miranda shifted her fingertips down the line of Andy’s throat until her hand had curled round the back of the brunette’s neck and gently pulled her forward. She raised up slightly and gently met Andy’s lips once, twice and then a third time before laying back down with a gentle but satisfied smile fixed on her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and settled even further into Andy’s arms. Within minutes her breathing became low and steady as she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Andy held her as her mind tried to process the incredible sensation of Miranda’s tremulous caresses and earth shattering feather light kisses, not to mention the unexpectedly sweet tones of Miranda’s gratitude.

Part of her was truly convinced that this was all a dream and any minute now she’d jerk awake and find herself still in the office, waiting for the Book to be delivered. Another part of her took the wonder of those kisses and the feel of Miranda safe in her arms and held them as surety of greater things to come.

Pulling the woollen throw from the floor beside the couch she draped it over Miranda and leant back till she could rest her head comfortably on the armrest. Miranda moved with her and cuddled tightly into her shoulder wrapping her arm around the younger woman’s waist. Andy sighed in utter contentment, feeling her own tension ebb away as she slipped into an equally well deserved slumber.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1 For them as weren’t born and raised on the North American continent, a PB&J is a Peanut Butter and Jelly (or if you’re a Canuck that would be ‘jam’) sandwich.

***

Andy stretched and turned her head into the back of the couch wincing as she felt a stinging pain around her eye, the unexpected discomfort pulling her into full consciousness. She blinked as she adjusted to the light and raised a hand to the left side of her face wincing again at the tender feeling around her eye. Her movements caused the woman in her arms to murmur and nestle in closer to her side. Looking down Andy could see that Miranda’s sleeping face was peaceful even though it still bore some signs of her earlier crying.

As she continued to lay there she was amazed at how incredibly natural it felt to be holding Miranda, as if she had been made for just this purpose. She wasn’t sure what Miranda would do when she woke up, how she would react to what had happened earlier, but the memory of her soft lips and even more the whispered thank you filled Andy with hope for the best.

 Without warning Andy’s stomach gave a loud rumble and she was reminded that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Not wanting to wake Miranda, she began to move as gently as possible, attempting to manoeuvre herself out from under the sleeping woman in her arms. Miranda murmured and her brow creased in displeasure as Andy fully extricated herself from the couch.

“Shhh, sleep, I’ll be here I promise,” Andy whispered as she settled Miranda’s head on a pillow, and re-settled the throw so she was fully covered. The younger woman gave in to the temptation and paused in order to gently stroke the silken strands of white a few times before standing up. She smiled at Miranda who hummed in contentment and snuggled deeper into the couch.

Leaving the older woman in the study, Andy went down the short hall toward the kitchen in search of something to stop the rumble of her hungry stomach. She figured if she didn’t get fired for giving Miranda a tickle torture, she was unlikely to be fired for raiding her fridge for a midnight snack. The thought made her glance at her watch and with some surprise she realised she’d slept for almost an hour and it was now nearly one in the morning, no wonder she was hungry, she hadn’t eaten in almost seventeen hours.

She quickly went about throwing together a PB&J and a glass of milk, smiling all the while at being right that where there were children there would be the four most important food groups, milk, bread, peanut butter and of course jelly, even here in the Priestly household. Sitting down at the kitchen table she bit into her sandwich and chewed with gusto. As she ate she looked around the kitchen noting with some surprise its country style design and furnishings, it was homey, welcoming and warm. She smiled to herself as she pictured Miranda and the twins having a lively dinner time conversation or a cosy Sunday morning breakfast in what would be a sunny, well lit room. As she washed, dried and put away her dishes she expanded her vision to include herself in the scenario making her famous marmalade French toast for the Priestly women. Sighing she sent up a small prayer that her fantasy might someday become reality and went back to the study to see how Miranda was doing.

On her way there she detoured to the half bathroom opposite the study. Looking into the mirror she gave a tiny gasp as she saw why the left side of her face felt so stiff. The eye was red and swollen and the area around it and her cheekbone were beginning to discolour. With some dismay she realised that by the morning she was likely to have one hell of a shiner. She couldn’t help but smirk, just a little as she remembered Miranda elbowing her in the eye in her mad attempts to get away from Andy’s menacing fingers.

“I won’t even be able to say _you should see the other guy_ ,” she chuckled to herself as she grabbed one of the soft face towels and wet it with cold water to make a compress for her eye. Holding the cloth in place she went back into the study where Miranda was still peacefully sleeping on the couch, her arms hugging the cushion Andy had rested on earlier like a teddy bear.

Andy found her bag on the floor just outside the study and took out the notes she’d been working on before the Book was delivered. She hoped that if she could expand on the two ideas she’d come up with one of them might be able to save the shoot and minimise the need for changes in the June issue. Nipping back to the kitchen she made herself a cup of herbal tea and then returned to the study where she made herself comfortable at Miranda’s desk and began to work.

***

Miranda stirred at the familiar sound of the clock in the hall striking the hour. Blinking sleepily, she let go of the cushion she had been pressing her face into and sat up as she shrugged the throw from her shoulders. Reacting to the sound of the hall’s time piece, she squinted at her watch and saw that it was 4:00 in the morning. She stretched and tilted her neck back and forth to work through the kinks she’d developed sleeping curled on the couch. As she moved her head to the right her desk came into view and she was treated to the sight of her second Assistant sound asleep and sprawled across the desktop pen still in hand, as if waiting for a new stream of instructions to note down.

“Andrea,” she whispered with a note of wonder threaded through her voice.

Sitting back into the couch she watched the amazing, perplexing, and gently beautiful girl sleep as she sorted through her memories of events earlier in the evening. Miranda didn’t know what had prompted Andy to do what she’d done. At the time it was happening she’d truly thought the girl had snapped under the pressure of the job and her boss’ terrible moods. Miranda snorted as she thought about her abysmal behaviour since Paris, and shaking her head at herself, she quietly said, “Who could blame Andrea if she had snapped?”

Apparently however, Andy had known exactly what she was doing and somehow the tickling assault had led to a much needed release of her scrambled and intense emotions through her subsequent crying fit. Miranda’s cheeks shaded a light pink as she remembered that part of the evening, realising that she must have looked an absolute fright, red faced, snot nosed and tear stained.  Those thoughts led her to memories of Andy’s gentle and comforting caresses and the way she’d taken care of her, cleaned her up and held her close offering her silent comfort. 

Miranda’s eyes grew large as she remembered what had happened next, the look of love Andy had graced her with had touched an answering feeling inside the editor’s own heart. She remembered the feel of the smooth skin of the girl’s cheek, the incredibly soft, pliant lips as she’d kissed her, not once but three times. She also remembered falling into a dreamless sleep wrapped in strong, protective arms feeling safe and at peace.

 _‘What now?’_ The thought intruded into her mind as she watched Andy move in her sleep, dropping the pen and folding her arms under her head, seeking a more comfortable position, finally resettling herself with her face now pointed toward the couch. Miranda continued to watch the sleeping girl as her mind thought furiously about what she should do next.

She knew she should feel shocked and maybe even distressed at having kissed Andy, she should feel surprised at finding herself attracted to a woman. She should be concerned that Andy was half her age, that the girl was her employee, that she was straight, that Andy was, as far as she knew, straight as well. She should be considering the idea that her feelings were only the result of her emotional overload and should not be trusted. She knew she should be worried about the twins and how this could affect them. She knew she should be concentrating on the fiasco of Stephen’s blackmail plans and the media circus that was going to occur. She should also be worried about the press feeding frenzy that would continue if she pursued anything further with Andy. She knew that Irv could and would try to use this against her if given the chance.

She knew she _should_ be feeling and considering all these things, but the simple fact was, that she _wasn’t_. She wasn’t feeling shock or concern or worry, what she _was_ feeling was calm, centred and whole, and she knew that was due entirely to the woman sleeping less than ten feet away. She knew on the most basic and essential level that she and Andy were meant for each other, and that they would be stronger together than apart.

Miranda stood up and folded the throw over the back of the couch. As she turned toward her desk she was reminded of something her grandmother had been fond of saying _. “Miranda, life is always a challenge, but it is only hard if that’s the way you choose to make it.”_

“Well Bubbe, I hope you’re right. I’ll deal with the challenges that being with Andrea sends my way and I won’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”  Miranda whispered this pledge into the silent room as she moved to wake the sleeping girl at her desk.

Miranda stroked the brunette locks away from Andy’s face and then gently shook her shoulder. Andy mumbled something into her arm but remained sleeping. Miranda shook her shoulder again and quietly called her name.

“Andrea. Andrea you need to wake up darling.”

“M’randa, wha’s wrong, whatchoo need?” was Andy’s muffled and sleepy response as she raised her head and looked at Miranda with bleary eyes.

“My God! Did I do that?” Miranda was shocked to see Andy’s swollen eye and reached out to gently touch her cheek, “I’m so sorry Andrea, I had no idea I’d lashed out that strongly.”  Filled with remorse for her clumsiness, she continued to gently stroke the bruised skin.

The feel of Miranda’s velvet soft fingertips grazing her tender cheekbone brought Andy to full wakefulness in a matter of seconds. She looked up at the older woman who continued to delicately cup her hand around Andy’s injured face. Andy reached up her own hand and held it over Miranda’s hand lest she take it away and deprive her of her touch.

“It’s not so bad really, it looks worse than it feels,” Andy reassured her.

Andy was nervous and a little uncertain about what to do now that Miranda was awake. Looking into clear blue eyes she saw the warmth and tenderness the woman was feeling as well as an interesting tinge of La Priestly determination. Wanting to respond in kind she took Miranda’s hand from her cheek turning it over and pressing a single feather light kiss in the palm before entwining their fingers together.

“How are you feeling now Miranda?”

“Considerably better Andrea.” She gave the brunette’s hand a tiny squeeze and continued, “Thank y…” She failed to finish the expression of gratitude as she scrunched her face into an enormous yawn, followed by a second in quick succession.

Andy’s eyes twinkled and she let out a delighted chuckle at the expression of surprise on Miranda’s face. As she laughed she realised her nervousness had completely disappeared, and she was feeling truly at ease and comfortable with their interaction. She decided to go for broke with this comfortable feeling and took her confidence in hand as she stood up from the desk, let go of Miranda’s hand and enfolded her in a firm hug.

“You’re welcome Miranda. I’m glad I could help.” She pulled back and looked deeply into the older woman’s eyes as she continued. “I will always want to help you Miranda, always.”

Miranda pulled her back into the hug and thanked Andy once more, or at least that’s what Andy thought she was saying, the words were a bit muffled as they were being spoken into the base of her neck where Miranda had tucked her head. After what Andy thought was an entirely too brief period, Miranda pulled out of the hug again and took a step back as she reached for both of Andy’s hands and held them gently in her own.

“Andrea, I know that we have a great deal we need to discuss, and I promise we will discuss it. For now, I want you to know that I care about you…care _for_ you a great deal, and I have hope that you feel the same…” she paused and smiled at Andy who was vigorously nodding her head in assent before continuing with a pleasant twinkle in her eye.

 “Well then, I’m pleased we’re agreed on that point. I want to tell you…” again she was caught short by a huge yawn which was instantly mirrored by Andy. They both smiled sheepishly before Miranda continued.

“I want to tell you about what’s been happening, but it’s complicated and not at all pleasant and I’d prefer to wait till the morning to do that now. I…I would greatly appreciate it if you would be here tomorrow when my lawyer and some… other people arrive.” Miranda paused not sure how to voice her next request. She knew what she truly wanted to ask Andy, she wanted to ask her to finish the early morning hours the way they had begun, with her strong arms wrapped around Miranda holding her close and safe. But as wonderful as that would be, she accepted it was too soon to invite the young woman into her bedroom even for something as platonic as comfort cuddling. She stayed silent as she tried to figure out how to proceed.

Andy watched Miranda ponder how to ask for what they both wanted and needed. She didn’t think Miranda would ask her to actually share her bed, but she sensed she didn’t want her to leave either, and that was fine by Andy because she didn’t want to leave.  The soft chime of the clock striking the half hour gave Andy an idea and she pulled Miranda back into a loose hug.

“Of course I’ll be here for you tomorrow and the day after that, and the one after that and next week and next month. Always Miranda, I will always be here for you as long as you want me to be.” Andy held Miranda closer and continued.

“Now, it’s four thirty in the morning and we’re both tired, you should go to bed and get some more sleep.” On a whim she reached up and tapped Miranda’s nose playfully, “Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine, I happen to know from experience that the couch over there is quite comfortable.”

 She grinned openly at Miranda and started to move toward the piece of furniture in question. Miranda stopped her move to the couch and took her hand as she headed toward the hall Andrea following along behind her.

“Don’t be ridiculous Andrea. I have several perfectly good guestrooms for you to choose from, all with very comfortable beds.” Without further explanation she led Andy up to the third floor of the townhouse pausing at a doorway at one end of the landing.

“Cara always keeps this room ready in case of unexpected guests, not that we’ve ever had one in the ten years she’s worked for me, but it seems to make her happy to have the room prepared. You’ll find toiletries in the adjoining bathroom and sleepwear in the dresser. My lawyer should be here at 10:30 tomorrow but I would like to be up by 9:00 so that we can talk before he arrives.”

Andy was a little bit taken aback by Miranda as she babbled on with more details than the older woman had ever given her in the entire time she’d worked at Runway. The brunette realised the stream of information was probably due to a bit of nervousness on Miranda’s part and tried to put her at ease. She drew Miranda in for a fierce hug and as she released her she bent and kissed her ever so sweetly, first on the lips, then on the forehead and then with a sparkle of mischief in her eye, Andy kissed the tiny little bump on Miranda’s nose just for good measure.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, but as you saw downstairs I can pretty much sleep on anything, couches, desks you name it I can conk out on it.” Andy grinned at Miranda urging her to share in the banter, and Miranda didn’t disappoint giving a perfectly gauged rejoinder.

“Yes apparently you can even nod off while leaning on editors of fashion magazines it seems,” Miranda teased.

“Only one and she’s not just an editor, she’s the Editor in Chief,” Andy tapped Miranda once more on the nose and leant in for a more thorough kiss before moving away toward the bedroom door.

“Goodnight Miranda, I hope you sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that promise she slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind her.

“Goodnight Andrea. Sweet dreams my darling.” Miranda murmured to the closed door before turning and making her way to the other end of the landing and her own bedroom. As she made her way into her en suite she hoped that they would both manage to get at least a few more hours sleep before the gruelling day they had ahead of them.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I wish to own anything at all to do with either Mr Blobby or Noel Edmonds! They just seemed to fit in to the story nicely so there! Pffffftttttt! Gunge me if ya can catch me beard boy! Double Pffffffttttttt!!!!!  
> For more disclaimers - See Part 1
> 
> AN 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.  
> AN 2 For them as don’t hail from Blighty or its’ near neighbours, you can find out more about Mr Blobby and Noel Edmond’s House Party on Google.  “Blobbyblobbyblobby!”

Emily tossed and turned in her bed, deep in the grip of a disturbing dream. In her mind she was running as fast as she could through the halls of Runway. She was constantly stumbling and losing her balance, hindered in her flight not by fashionable four-inch heels, but by a pair of huge, pink, feet shaped slippers with yellow polka dots. She was desperately trying to get away from the phalanx of rotund and bright pink figures who were chasing her and chanting something that sounded like, “ _Bloptobismolblobbyblobbybismol_.” 

She knew she needed to get to Miranda’s office, she’d be safe there. Those hideous rampaging affronts to all things fashionable would never dare to invade the Dragon Lady’s Lair. As she ran she chanced a quick glance to see if her pursuers where getting closer and her jaw dropped as she suddenly realised she was being chased by mob of manic Mr Blobbys. She squealed and redoubled her efforts to escape.  She’d ruddy-well hated Noel Edmund’s bloody House Party when she was a child!

Careening around a corner she sprinted as best she could past her own empty desk and propelled herself through Miranda’s office door slamming and locking it just as the first pink butterball crashed into Andy’s desk sending her computer hurtling to the floor. Panting the red head leant her forehead against the door while she tried to get her breath back.

Just as her heart rate had lowered to something closer to normal she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Whirling around her eyes bugged out at the room that was now filled with several dozen Mr Blobbys surrounding Miranda’s desk. She looked more closely and saw that what had been the editor’s desk was now actually a desk sized version of a hearing aid and sat on top of it was a maniacally grinning Noel Edmonds.

“Now HEAR this Ladies and Blobbys! We have this evening’s final contestant for the Gunge Tank! Remember it’s your calls that decide if Emily gets gunged or an all expenses paid make out session with Serena the Brazilian Bombshell. Call now but make sure to get the bill payers permission.”

Emily looked down at herself and blinked as she realised she was now tied to a chair inside some sort of Perspex cabinet outside of which Noel and the Blobbys were dancing. She pulled at the ropes holding her prisoner but to no avail.

“Just one more call and we get to Gunge her! Come on viewers, you can’t beat a good gunging.” Noel waved at Emily and gave her a thumbs-up sign as a line of Blobbys formed a bucket chain to fill the tank above her head.

Emily’s anger got the better of her and she started shouting.

“Get me out of here you sickening great Blanc Manges!!!!! And you Beard-Boy! I’m going to pluck you one hair at a time I swear!!!!” As she continued to bellow her threats the red head began to pull at her bindings like a madwoman.

One of the Blobby’s waved at Noel indicating that the gunge tank was now full and ready for action. Noel shook the phone in his hand at Emily.

“Come on folks just one more call and Red here meets Pink big time. Just one more little call, just one, just one…” he continued chanting as he shook the phone.

Suddenly the room was filled with the staccato ring tone of the phone, the sound so loud it seemed to echo from wall to wall.

“Gunge time!!!!! Let her rip Mr Blobby!”

Emily was caught mid scream as she looked up to see the cascade of neon pink gunge plunging down and hitting her square in the face. It filled her open mouth and streamed on past her shoulders covering the rest of her body.

“Hahahaha,” Edmonds taunted as he continued to wave the ringing phone, “As long as this keeps ringing we keep gunging!”

Emily managed to spit most of the foul tasting gunge from her mouth and was looking with alarm at the not so slowly filling tank, noting that the squidgy pink liquid was already covering her knees and continuing to rise. She could still hear the incessant and high pitched ring tone of the phone in Edmonds’ hand. As the gunge reached her chest and then her chin, the bearded host leered and called out to her.

“It’s for yoooohoooooo!!!!!!” And with that he tossed the phone over the Perspex wall and it fell with a nauseating plop into the swirling pink soup, just as the gunge covered the screaming red head completely.

Emily jerked up in her bed, suddenly wide awake, her own very real scream still echoing in her ears. She struggled to untangle herself from her knotted and sweat soaked blankets as she realised her phone on the bedside table was ringing ever louder as she continued wrestling with her bedclothes.

Her heart beat still galloping a mile a minute she finally pulled herself free and lunged for the phone, noting two things as she squinted at the brightly lit display screen. One was that the time was seven am and the second, unsurprisingly was that the caller id was flashing the word Miranda. Taking a quick breath and grabbing a pencil and scrap of paper from her purse on the floor, she pressed the receive button and managed a remarkably calm greeting.

“Yes Miranda?”

Hearing her assistant’s voice,  Miranda launched into her list of instructions without preamble or explanation and Emily scribbled them diligently on both sides of her scrap of paper only stopping when the familiar dismissal of,  _‘That’s all.’_ was heard.

Emily blinked at her phone and flopped backward on the bed.

“Seven in the freaking morning! On a Saturday for God’s sake! Well at least she was speaking at a normal volume, or maybe that was just the phone amplifying the sound.”

She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand trying to decipher her own writing as she heaved herself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. She continued her grumbling as she started the shower, knowing she’d have to hurry to complete Miranda’s instructions in the time she’d specified.

******

Emily carefully put the bags she was carrying on the stoop and used her free hand to open the door of the townhouse, before retrieving the bags and balancing two large Starbucks’ thermoses as she pushed the door closed with her foot. Looking around the foyer, she stopped, suddenly unsure what she should do next, wait, call out her presence or go looking for Miranda, they all had potentially perilous outcomes not least of all the mere chance of choosing the wrong one. She heaved a sigh of relief when she heard Miranda calling her name from deeper in the house, and headed toward what she knew was Miranda’s study at the end of the hall.

Miranda was sitting at her desk reading through what appeared to be a pad of long hand notes, but looked up as soon as Emily entered the room. She carefully placed the pad of notes into a folder and closed it before looking at the red head expectantly. Emily hastily placed the bags at the side of the desk and continued to hold the warm thermoses as she launched into a progress report on the instructions Miranda had given over the phone.

“The clothes you requested are in the bags.  The white Donna Karan blouse you wanted was being used for the Halston accessories spread so I brought the other two available in the same style, one is cream and one is egg shell. I also brought the white scoop neck Karan and the wide collared Ralph Lauren from February’s issue.” Emily paused and braced herself for the onslaught of scathing remarks she was sure was on its way. She waited, and waited some more before chancing a glance at her boss. Miranda said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow and giving a very slight nod for Emily to continue. The bemused girl blinked in surprise but decided to be thankful for this unexpected reprieve and hurried on with the rest of the details.

“I’ve left notice for HR that Francesca no longer works at Runway and they should send her termination papers out immediately.  Leslie said she had already rescheduled today’s appointment so she’ll be at the office for one o’clock as you requested. Likewise Nigel and everyone in the production team confirmed they will be waiting in the main conference room at two as per Andrea’s e-mail and text instructions.”  Emily finished her monologue and waited for Miranda’s next set of instructions.  Miranda stood up, picked up the folder and rounded the desk as she began to oblige Emily’s expectation.

“I want all of the layouts, editorial and scheduling for the June edition ready and available. Have Jocelyn gather all the accessories we’d agreed on and have the Haskell items there as well. Ensure that there is a decent supply of coffee for everyone, and we will need catering later in the evening.” She paused in front of Emily as she neatly relieved her startled assistant of the two thermoses.

“No one will be leaving until the edition is back on track and on schedule.” She continued past Emily and headed toward the kitchen throwing a nonchalant, “That’s all.” over her shoulder before disappearing from view.

Left behind in the study Emily was rather surprised at the fact that Miranda had apparently decided to decant her coffee herself, but gathered herself together with a characteristic declaration.

 “Yes. Right. Runway,” and headed for the front door. Her annoyance over being called to work so early on a Saturday had been replaced by a surge of relief that Miranda was at least speaking at her normal quiet but audible volume. Emily also felt pleased that it had obviously fallen to Andrea to tell the Dragon Lady about the Haskell fiasco and not her, thank God. As far as she was concerned, having to work notwithstanding, the day was looking up.

****

Miranda put the folder on the kitchen table and then placed the thermoses on the centre island and reached for her favourite mug from the mug tree on the counter. Opening the first thermos she smiled at the rich aroma of the still scalding hot coffee. She added hot milk from the other thermos and then resealed them both before picking up the mug and taking her first sip of the day.

Sitting down at the table she opened the folder and continued to read through Andy’s notes and ideas that the girl had obviously written last night. She’d discovered the pad of notes when she’d come downstairs in search of her Blackberry. At first she was extremely confused as to why Andy had been outlining ideas for changes to the June edition until she’d flipped to the third page where Andy had jotted some points about the Haskell jewellery which mentioned its turquoise colour. A few pages after that she’d had to chuckle at a little section of notes in the margin where Andy had apparently had a mini rant to vent her frustration over Francesca’s cowardice and stupidity and the problems caused by them. Putting two and two together Miranda had formulated a fairly good understanding of the potential disaster she was facing and had planned accordingly as she rang Emily to get the damage control underway.

Miranda drank her coffee as she continued reading through Andy’s notes. The final five pages contained a rough but well written article on Miriam Haskell’s influence on early 20th century jewellery design. She found that even in its rough form the writing was both informative and quite engaging. This didn’t come as a surprise to Miranda as she had in fact read through all the articles that Andy had provided with her résumé and knew that the younger woman was a good writer with a great deal of talent and potential.  As she finished reading the last of Andy’s notes an idea began to form in Miranda’s mind and she smiled with pleasure as she thought through how she was going to execute this new plan.

Getting up and rinsing her mug out Miranda smiled as she recalled some of the details that Emily had provided earlier. Apparently Andy was well and truly on top of things and had somehow found time before she’d gone to sleep, to reschedule Leslie and to organise the emergency meeting of the production staff. She chuckled as a thought crossed her mind, _“Philip can keep Helen, I have Andrea and that’s what I call competence!”_

The clock chimed the half hour prompting Miranda to head upstairs to wake Andy and to deliver the clothing that Emily had brought from Runway. As she made her way up the first flight of stairs she chuckled once more as she imagined the look that might have graced Emily’s face if she’d know the clothes Miranda had asked for were for Andrea. Picturing it in detail, Miranda let out a full throated laugh as she continued on to the guest room.

 


	8. Chapter 8

***

Miranda knocked on the guest room door listening carefully for any response. None came, so she knocked a little louder and waited a moment more. When there was still no response she quietly opened the door and moved into the dimly lit room leaving the door ajar behind her. Letting her eyes adjust to the dim light she looked to the bed and saw that Andrea was still sleeping soundly. She stepped to the side of the bed and spent several moments just looking at the peacefully sleeping woman. A small but oh so genuine smile graced the older woman’s lips as she contemplated the budding, what, romance, relationship? Well the budding _something_ that was happening between herself and the beautiful brunette.

She glanced at the carriage clock on the nightstand and realised that as much as she would have liked to continue watching Andy sleep, she needed to wake the woman so they would have time for the very difficult conversation they needed to have before Philip and the rest arrived later in the morning. She sat on the side of the bed and stroked a lock of hair away from Andy’s face as she called her name.

“Andrea. Darling, wake up.”

Andy rolled toward Miranda and flung her arm around the older woman’s thigh cuddling her face into the side of Miranda’s leg. Miranda thought this truly adorable but she still forced herself to reach over and give Andy’s shoulder a gentle but firm shake to help her into the waking world.

“Please Andrea I need you to wake up now.” This certainly worked as Miranda was forced to pull her torso back as Andy suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed. Although she appeared to have snapped completely awake her voice was still sleep roughened and her words a little bit mumbled. Miranda fleetingly wondered whether it had been the shake of her shoulder, the fact that she’d heard Miranda use the word please, or the fact that she had been alerted to Miranda needing something that had been the impetus to Andy waking so quickly.

“M’randa, whas wrong? You okay? Whatchoo need?” Andy rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand, wincing as she touched her bruised cheek and eye, before reaching out and taking hold of Miranda’s hand with the other.

“What do you need sweetheart? Just let me get dressed, I’ll only be a minute.” Andy squeezed Miranda’s hand and started to scramble out of the bed only to be firmly held in place by Miranda’s free hand braced against her shoulder.

“Slow down there Tiger.” Miranda smiled and couldn’t resist affectionately ruffling Andy’s bangs.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just past nine and I thought you might want to shower and dress before coming downstairs.” Miranda’s face saddened a little and she sighed as she continued. “We still need to have a discussion before my lawyer arrives at ten thirty.”

“Sure thing,” Andy replied as she once again squeezed Miranda’s hand, trying to give the troubled woman her wordless support. Miranda grew more pensive, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

“I have some things to tell you Andrea, unpleasant things, and they need to be dealt with before I can think about addressing,” she pulled their linked hands up into their mutual line of sight, “ _this_ , whatever this may be.” She pulled Andy’s hand toward her face and placed a gentle kiss on each of the young woman’s knuckles.

“I may not be sure exactly what _it_ is, to me or to you Andrea, but I want you to know I’m very grateful for last night and for the wonderful support you’ve been to me since well before Paris really.”

Andy was fascinated as she watched Miranda lower her gaze before she continued, her voice holding a most uncharacteristic hint of shyness as she did so.

“And, well, I, um, well I hope that we can…” Andy’s eyes widened as Miranda blushed and actually ducked her head before she continued. “That we can continue to be, um affectionate even if we haven’t the time to immediately discuss, well…” Miranda trailed off as she looked into Andy’s eyes and gave a sheepish grin and another shake of their joined hands.

Andy was entranced. If someone had told her 24 hours ago that she would be fortunate enough to see Miranda Priestly being openly uncertain and well truth be told, so totally adorably at a loss for words she would have scoffed in their faces. Not that anyone would have told her this would happen, because the brunette was sure the number of people to have seen Miranda like this could be counted on the fingers of one hand, possibly with fingers left to spare. Andy felt a giddy sense of wonder as she realised that she had been added to that very special and tiny number of people in Miranda’s life. Impulsively she pulled Miranda into a full body hug, mumbling a response into the older woman’s shoulder.

“Affectionate. Right. No Problem, I’m on it.”

Pulling back just a little she smiled with pure joy and kissed Miranda, on the lips, on her eyes, her forehead and as was becoming a habit she ended with a gentle peck to the bridge of Miranda’s nose. Andy couldn’t help the snort she gave as Miranda, doing her infamous eye roll in response to Andy’s antics, managed somehow to look more cute than caustic.

“Yes, well, I suppose I should have known you’d excel at that particular task Andrea.” The twinkle in her eyes and the tilt of her head took any possible sting out of the words.

“I will trust you then to know when such affection is appropriate and when it is not.” She reached over and stroked an errant strand of hair behind Andy’s left ear, ghosting her fingertips over the swollen flesh of Andy’s cheek before continuing in a quieter voice. “And to know when it is truly needed, appropriate time or not. Now I really should leave you to shower and dress.” As she stood up she reached down to the bags she’d set beside the bed and handed them over to Andy.

“I had Emily bring these over for you, they should all be the right size.” Glancing at the far more developed black eye Andy was now sporting she continued. “My bedroom is at the other end of the hall, the last door on the right. When you’re ready to do your makeup use my ensuite, you’ll find an excellent range of concealers for your eye, help yourself to what ever you need.”

Bending down she kissed Andy’s forehead before heading for the doorway where she turned back to say one more thing. “There’s fresh Starbucks downstairs, but if you dawdle in the shower I won’t be held responsible for its disappearance.” She smirked before adding in her best Runway drawl of boredom. “That’s all.” And with that she winked at Andy and left closing the door behind her.

Left still sitting in bed, Andy stared at the door, totally blown away. Miranda Priestly had winked...at her! She was in love with the Dragon Lady and it seemed the Dragon Lady was, well certainly very fond of her in return. The whole amazing, improbable, and wonderful situation caused Andy to hug herself and fling herself backward onto the bed as she let out a squeal of pure happiness.

Calming herself a little she sat back up and began to look through the bags now scattered over the huge bed. Just as Miranda had said, there was everything she needed down to shoes and lingerie. As she laid out the blouse she’d chosen from the selection available and the skirt and hosiery, Andy wondered if Emily realised exactly who the clothes she’d brought had been for. With that thought it suddenly dawned on her that she and Miranda were actually the same size, both a normal four, not a model two or zero. Well no wonder she’d always been able to find something in the Closet at Runway that fitted her, the designers must make it a point to know Miranda’s size and send some samples hoping that she’d wear them.

Andy grabbed the lacy white bra and panties and headed for the bathroom, a wicked grin on her face as she pictured Emily’s likely reaction to seeing Andy in the clothes she’d picked out that morning. Well she thought, at least it will lighten up what is likely to be an otherwise gruelling working weekend.

Less than twenty minutes later Andy entered the kitchen in search of Miranda and some coffee, in that order. She immediately noted the Starbuck’s thermos’ on the counter top but continued looking around for the missing editor, quickly spotting her standing in the small solarium attached to the kitchen. Miranda stood looking out the window on the grey and overcast day as she contemplated how she was going to manage the day ahead. Her shoulders were slumped and she held her arms around her middle as if to comfort herself.

Andy watched her for a little bit, her heart aching for the troubled woman. Then she made her way over and wrapped her arms around Miranda’s waist pinning the older woman’s arms in place and holding her securely from behind before giving her a simple kiss on her cheek. To Andy’s pleasure Miranda didn’t seemed surprised by the action and certainly didn’t seem displeased by it either given that she didn’t pull away but instead leant back and allowed Andy to hold her. It was amazing to Andy to feel this physical, almost instinctual trust that Miranda was showing her, just as she had the previous night. She knew in the marrow of her bones that she would never betray that trust, that she would happily spend the rest of her life demonstrating that Miranda had finally found the right, the only true guardian worthy of that trust.

They stood quietly for a few more minutes before Miranda extricated an arm and patted Andy’s hand silently asking her to release her hold. Reluctantly Andy removed her arms from Miranda’s waist allowing the older woman to turn and without warning pepper her cheeks with tiny little kisses before giving the startled brunette a final, slow, deep and lingering kiss on her lips

“Whoa!” Andy beamed at Miranda before she continued, “You know I’m gonna get addicted to those don’t you? Hell I already am!”

Miranda’s lips quirked into a genuine smile and there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Well, so long as I’m your only supplier I think that’s an addiction that can be catered to on a regular basis.” And she leaned in for another quick kiss before completely disengaging and heading toward the kitchen.

Andy followed her into the kitchen and accepted the cup of coffee Miranda handed her before they both sat at the kitchen table. Miranda had refilled her own mug and took a small sip before looking at Andy, still uncertain where to begin. She cleared her throat, started to say something and then decided to stall for time as she said something else instead.

“Um, are you hungry? I could make you some breakfast.” She started to rise from her chair only to be stopped by Andy’s hand gently taking hold of her wrist.

“No, that’s alright Miranda, I’m fine, I had a PBJ last night.” She kept hold of Miranda’s wrist until she sat back down and then she moved her hand and twined their fingers together.

“Okay, I know this is hard for you, so let me save you some trouble by telling you what I already know or may have made an educated guess about.” She continued to hold Miranda’s hand, pausing just long enough to allow the other woman to speak, but she stayed silent, merely giving a slight nod for Andy to continue.

“Well it’s no secret that Stephen has been doing his best to make the divorce difficult, I’ve been assuming he’s challenging your pre-nuptial agreement in some way.” Andy paused to give Miranda an unusually feral little grin, “But I have no doubt that the challenge has proved beyond his abilities, I can’t imagine you’d have allowed any loopholes in something as important as a pre-nup.” She smiled as Miranda responded with a feral smile of her own.

“So I assume he decided to up the ante yesterday by changing tactics in some drastic way.” Miranda gave a brief nod confirming Andy’s suppositions and allowed her to continue.

“Considering your reaction and the fact that you sent the girls out of town so quickly I’m assuming that it’s either about them or something so bad that it could seriously affect them as well as you. At first I thought that Stephen might be making some kind of threat that he intended to accuse you of being an unfit mother and that he was possibly trying to enlist James’ co-operation for that, egging him on to sue for sole custody or something similar. However, the fact that you sent the girls to their paternal grandmother for safe keeping made me reconsider that idea.”

 She looked at Miranda and said earnestly, “That could never have worked anyway because you are a great mother Miranda. The girls know how much you love them and they love you just as much.” She added the last statement in response to the sorrow and doubt she saw in Miranda’s eyes.

“How do you know that? Don’t you think I’m a terrible mother? I’m hardly ever…”  Andy cut her off, placing the fingers of her free hand on Miranda’s lips to stop her speaking.

“Are you kidding!? Maybe you don’t remember the Miami hurricane, but I sure do, not to mention the aftermath in your office when you got back. I have no doubts about how much you love your children Miranda. And if you doubt how well you show that love just add up how many of their school and social functions you’ve moved heaven and earth…” she paused and gave Miranda a little smirk, “or had others try to move heaven and earth to make sure you could attend. Have a little think about how many their father has gotten to, or some of their classmates parents have attended, and you’ll see how far ahead you are. And the girls know it too.”

 Andy chuckled before adding, “I overheard Cassidy on the phone once when you sent me to the house to pick up that change of outfit for the Hearst Foundation cocktail party. She was bragging to a friend that you were the only parent in her entire class who had attended more than three events at school that year and that didn’t mean you’d been to four events, nope you’d attended nine. Cassidy’s final comment was that you were the best mother in Dalton.” Andy squeezed Miranda’s hand. “Believe me sweetheart the twins know you love them.”

Miranda gave Andy a wobbly little smile as she whispered, “Thank you.” Andy’s words were a balm to the sore point of her abilities as a parent.

“Anytime.” Andy raised her mug as a toast to her reply. She took a drink and braced herself to continue with her second far more serious supposition.

“So I thought some more and the next thing that seemed to fit was that Stephen has found something damaging enough to blackmail you with, something that could hurt you at work and worse something that you don’t want the girls to know about. I think it’s the second idea, not least of all because I assume the extra ‘ _guests’_ at the meeting with Mr Walker this morning are the police.” Having laid her thoughts out as succinctly as she could, Andy took another sip of her coffee and waited for Miranda to reply.

Miranda for her part, found she could only stare open mouthed at Andy’s oh so accurate guessing _. How on earth did the girl manage to be so insightful? How was it she was able to read Miranda so clearly?_   Miranda was beginning to feel as if she’d never really noticed Andy at all before now. Firming her shoulders she vowed that that would change from this moment on. Current issues not withstanding she had plans for her Andrea, great things lay in the girl’s future and she knew that Andrea would both earn and deserve every one of them. But first things first she thought and took a deep breath before she replied.

“You’re accuracy is a little bit frightening sometimes Andrea. I’ll be honest and say I’m not sure how I feel about you being able to read me so easily.”

Andy gave a small snort, “There’s no easily about it Miranda, my being able to read you at all is down to over a year of having only one focus in life…make sure Miranda gets what she wants and what she needs.  After that long studying your every muscle twitch from head to toe for clues as to what those things were I admit I am reasonably fluent in ‘ _Miranda’_. But I have no doubt that you’ll always manage to surprise me when it suits you.” She gave their joined hands another friendly squeeze.

Miranda returned the squeeze. “Hmmmm, I’ll bear that in mind.”

Feeling restless she released Andy’s hand and rose from the table beginning to pace between Andy’s chair and the refrigerator as she continued

“Your second supposition is correct Andrea, Stephen is trying to blackmail me and this morning’s meeting is so that the police can interview me and take my statement. Philip will be there to advise me and to supervise the police’s discretion as much as he can.”

She stopped as she turned away from Andy and continued in a much lower tone and with a stumbling uncertainty.

“I’d… that is… you would… I mean I would…” she trailed off unable to complete her thought.

Andy made a shrewd guess at what Miranda was trying to say and rose to stand just behind her putting a gentle hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Always Miranda. I’ll always be there for you as long as you want me to be, I meant that when I said it last night and I mean it now.” She gently turned Miranda to face her. “I know you’ll be giving the details to the police and I can hear them then, but can you give me at least an idea of what it is Stephen’s holding over you? Just so I’m you know, at least a little bit prepared.”

Miranda bowed her head as pink stained her neck and cheeks. She remained silent for a moment as she struggled with her embarrassment. This simply wouldn’t do! She needed to get a hold of herself and remember that she was not the wrong doer in this situation.  She had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, she was an adult, Andrea was an adult and she needed to just get on with it. She raised her head and set her chin in firm resolution to do just that.

“It appears that Stephen is something of a voyeur, and he apparently taped the two of us when we were still dating and I stayed over at his apartment. Entirely without my consent or knowledge for that matter, and now he’s threatening to release the images to the papers and to put them on the internet if I don’t give in to his demands.”  She watched Andy’s face carefully for her response, she didn’t have long to wait.

Andy was stunned for just a few seconds and then she clenched her hands into tight fists and her neck and jaw muscles clenched as her face went beet red. Her eyes became stormy and changed from their usual beautiful colour of chocolate with flecks of amber to a deep mud brown. The tenseness of her facial muscles totally undid the effects of the concealer she’d used on her eye and you could truly see the swollen and now discoloured bruise on her left cheek.  She looked like a boxer that had just gone ten rounds and was itching for ten more.

“The dirty rat-bastard! I’ll break his god damned neck! How could he do that!? He… oh the…” she growled out through gritted teeth, “I will kill the son of bitch! How dare he threaten you like this and…fuck him!!! Who the hell does he think he is?? He’s trying to use the girls against you too isn’t he? I’ll… I.. will.. break every bone in his fucking body!” Her anger was palpable the air around her crackling with the energy of it.

Her body was actually shaking with the force of her emotions. Andy had never felt such utter hatred for another human being in her life, but there was no denying that if Stephen were suddenly to appear in front of her right now she would have gone for him without a second thought, and no doubt done a considerable amount of damage.

Seeing her condition, Miranda was torn between feeling a strange kind of elation that someone, anyone could be that honestly angry on her behalf and feeling concerned about the strength of Andy’s reaction. She reached out and placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder trying to calm her a little by gently stroking her hand down her arm. This seemed to work as Andy took in a deep ragged breath and refocused on Miranda’s concerned face.

Realising she might have frightened Miranda with her extreme reaction she pulled her into a fierce hug feeling like she wanted to hold onto her forever and never let Stephen or anyone else hurt her ever again. She pushed her damaged cheek into the side of Miranda’s neck muttering apologies and that she hadn’t meant to frighten her and half formed promises to always protect her in any way she could. Miranda returned the hug just as fiercely and rubbed her hand over Andy’s back continuing to sooth her as best she could. She murmured her responses into the girl’s ear and they stayed in each other’s arms until Andy’s breathing evened out and she felt considerably calmer. Blushing, Andy gently disengaged from the hug and looked sheepishly at Miranda.

“Just what you don’t need, I’m supposed to be here to help you not to add to your troubles, it won’t happen again.” Andy promised as she let go of Miranda and went to the sink to splash some water on her face. Miranda followed and handed her a towel to dry off.

“I’m sorry it was such a shock Andrea. It would appear there’s just no gentle way to tell people who care about me what’s happening. Philip had a similarly angry, if somewhat less demonstrative reaction when I told him.” She looked at Andy’s somewhat worse for wear appearance and then glanced at her watch. “Philip should be here any minute now, why don’t you pop up stairs and repair this,” she smoothed her thumb over Andy’s cheek, “while I make a pot of coffee. It’s not Starbucks, but I’m sure we’ll all need it.”

“Okay, back in a minute. And Miranda, seriously, I promise, that will not happen again, no more losing control.” She kissed her cheek and headed back upstairs.

Thirty minutes later Andy ushered two detectives into the downstairs study where Miranda and Philip were waiting for them. Philip had arrived slightly later than he had wanted to and they’d only had a few minutes to go over what Miranda should tell the police and what, if anything, she should not. Andy had been pleased to discover that apparently even Philip Walker operated the _‘never ask Miranda questions’_ rule, calmly accepting Miranda’s curt explanation of Andy’s presence during his consultation, _“Andrea stays.”_ at face value.

Miranda rose and held out her hand to the two police officers, shaking each of their hands before indicating they should take a seat wherever they would be most comfortable. She then retook her seat on the couch where Andy sat down beside her with a small but acceptable distance between them.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I hope that we can get this over with as quickly as possible. I’m somewhat embarrassed to have to take valuable time away from your pursuit of much more serious criminals, but my attorney assures me that your department is the correct one to handle this case.” She nodded her head at the two men as they sat down.

“That’s not a problem Ms. Priestly, Mr Walker’s correct that this type of crime is down to our department to investigate.” The older of the two detectives spoke, his tone giving nothing away of how he was a little surprised at this wealthy socialite’s atypically non demanding attitude. He was more used to people like Miranda Priestly demanding immediate and special consideration when they were the victims of crime. He decided it was actually refreshing to come across someone of Miranda’s social standing with a much more realistic understanding of the system and how it worked.

“Miranda, please. I prefer just Miranda, not Ms. Priestly.”

“Miranda, I’m Detective Munch and this is my partner Detective Tutuola. Could you tell us what happened. If you could be as detailed as possible about the times and sequence of events that will be helpful.” He opened his note-book ready to write the details as they came.

Miranda described the first phone call from Stephen and seeing the short clip he’d sent to her, as well as the second call she’d received while she was waiting for Helen to arrive when she’d gone to Philip’s office. The second call had been when Stephen had stated his demand for Miranda to drop the pre-nuptial agreement and to agree to give Stephen two thirds of her fortune, nearly nine million dollars. He also wanted to take her home in the Hamptons and he demanded that she continue to pay him alimony after that. He had then threatened that if she didn’t agree to his terms, he’d post still pictures to all the tabloids and he’d post the footage on the internet. His parting shot had been very close to one of Andy’s angry statements earlier, as he had deliberately told her he would take great pleasure in posting the video on the Dalton School forum page so that her daughters were sure not to miss it.

“He then said he would be out of town until Monday morning and I had until then to get back to him with the paperwork from my lawyers. Then he hung up, as did I.” Miranda finished her statement with a long drawn out breath. She noticed for the first time that Andy had taken her hand at some point as she’d been speaking and was holding it firmly to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“Did he mention where he would be this weekend? Do you think he might be out of the country?” Detective Tutuola asked as Munch continued to make notes.

“No, he didn’t say where he was, but it’s possible he was in Los Angeles I seem to remember he mentioned some time ago that he’d be away on a business trip there this month.”

Detective Munch made a note about this and closed his note-pad. “That’s all the details we’ll need for now. We’ll have to take the phone for evidence…” he was cut off by Philip Walker.

“Is that strictly necessary? Surely you’ll need to find evidence either at Mr Tomlinson’s apartment or on his phone for it to be accepted in court?”

“We will be doing that as well Mr Walker, but we’re going to need a search warrant to gain access to Mr Tomlinson’s apartment and that video is the best way to obtain the warrant.”

“It’s alright Philip, we’ve already discussed this, I knew it would have come to this from the start.” Miranda reached into her pocket and brought out her cell phone.

“Andrea ascertained that you would need the phone itself as well as the sim card, is that correct?” Miranda reluctantly handed the phone over to Munch.

“Yes, we’ll need the phone to confirm the calls you received came from Mr Tomlinson’s phone.” Munch carefully put the phone into an evidence bag and tagged it with the proper details.

“We will do our best to limit the number of people who actually need to see the video. I’m sure our A.D.A Ms. Cabot will be able to get a warrant without actually needing to show the judge the video. She’s really good at things like that.” He gave Miranda what he hoped was a reassuring smile. His good opinion of her had grown during the interview and he found himself inclined to help in minimising the potential embarrassment the circumstances were likely to throw her way. He and his partner rose to their feet as the others followed suit.

“We’ll start the process for the warrant immediately, but it’s unlikely to come through until Monday morning. We’ll contact Mr Tomlinson’s secretary and find out when he’s due to arrive back in New York and work from there.” He noticed Miranda’s concerned expression and reassured her, “I’ll call you and let you know when we’ve got the warrant and when we’re on our way to his apartment.”

“Thank you detective. Your kindness and your discretion are appreciated.” Miranda let go of Andy’s hand and asked her in a warm tone. “Would you show the detectives out Andrea? I need to gather a few things before we leave for the office.”

Andy quirked her lips a little at the novelty of Miranda actually asking her to do something rather than simply ordering her to do it; looking into those deep blue eyes she was pretty certain that it might be a novelty for the moment but it was likely to become a common practice pretty quickly, at least where Andy was concerned.

“Certainly Miranda, I’ll be back in a minute.” With that she escorted the two detectives from the room leaving Miranda to say goodbye to Philip Walker.

As she reached the front door Andy stopped the detectives.

“Detective Munch, umm how many people do you think are going to have to see that video? I mean I noticed that you didn’t actually watch it or anything…” Andy trailed off looking anxiously at the older policeman.

“Don’t worry Andy, we really are going to do our best to limit who sees the video. Captain Cragen asked us to bring it to him, he’ll watch enough to verify taking the case and then Alex, sorry A.D.A Cabot will have to do the same. After that it depends on what we find at Mr Tomlinson’s place and what charges are made and whether or not it goes to court. When the Captain and Alex have seen it the phone will go into the evidence locker and it will have a black band on it limiting who’s allowed to sign it out.” He saw Andy still looked worried.

“It’s the best we can do Andy, I won’t lie and promise you it won’t get leaked to the press, but we’re going to do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t.”

Andy gave the man a shaky smile, “Thanks, I really appreciate your dedication Detective Munch, yours too Detective Tutuola. It just… it would really suck for her kids if it got out you know? They really don’t need that kind of experience.”

“No kid does Andy. We’ll be in touch.” He shook her hand and the two detectives made their way down the front steps as she closed the door behind them. She headed back toward the study meeting Philip Walker hallway down the hall.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Andy.” He said as he shook her hand. “I’m truly glad that Miranda has someone like you looking out for her as she goes through this mess.” His kind grey eyes watched her as she ducked her head in acknowledgement.

“Thanks Mr Walker, the feeling’s mutual.” her smile vanished and her face hardened as she continued, “Make the bastard pay Mr Walker. Make sure they throw away the key when they lock him in his cell.”

“Don’t worry about that Andy, even when he does see the light of day again, the view’s going to be very different from the gutter he won’t be able to afford.” His face was stern and confident as he said this and Andy nodded approvingly.

“Right. I’ll text you Miranda’s new number as soon as I have it.” With that Andy continued on her way to the study as Philip let himself out.

“There you are.” Miranda stepped from behind her desk where she’d been readying her briefcase. She stepped straight into Andy’s personal space and hugged her close, as Andy’s arms automatically closed around the older woman. After a few minutes Miranda pulled away and gave Andy a long sweet kiss.

Blinking a little in surprise Andy finally responded, “Umm, yup here I am. If I go out and come in again will I get another one of those?”

Andy was pleased to see that her cheeky response caused Miranda to smile and relax her body a bit more. She’d noted that Miranda had been tensing up considerably during the interview and she was pleased the older woman was trying to relax a little before moving on to the next headache which was waiting for them at Elias Clarke. Andy had filled Miranda in on the Haskell problems and the production team meeting she’d organised to address them as they’d waited for Philip Walker to arrive. Miranda never let on that she was already aware of the problem from having read Andy’s notes.

 

Miranda rested her forehead against Andy’s and sighed. “I wish we had time for you to do that Andrea, but we really need to go if we’re to be on time for Leslie. Roy should be waiting out front now.”

Andy nodded but Miranda made no move to let go of the brunette’s waist, instead she pulled her closer and rested her head on Andy’s shoulder. Andy rubbed soothing circles on her back and just let her be for a few minutes before urging her head up and moving away from her embrace. She gently stroked her finger down Miranda’s chin and kissed her, once, twice and then a third time, grinning as she saw the flicker of recognition in the older woman’s eyes.

“We do have to go now Miranda. Come on, it’s time for the Dragon Lady to spread her wings and do what she does best.” Andy chuckled as Miranda cocked her eyebrow questioningly.

“That would be frightening her minions into achieving the perfect and the impossible. This minion however doesn’t need frightening to do those things.” She kissed Miranda’s nose as she whispered with heartfelt conviction, “I want to do them. For you.” She smiled at Miranda as she picked up her briefcase which was still beside the desk where she’d left it the night before.

“And listen, Miranda, just be yourself, I mean, I’m not expecting… I mean not that I was thinking you would…” she stuttered to a halt before gathering herself together and trying once more. “What I mean is I want you to know that I understand that work is work and I’ll be completely professional…and…” Miranda cut her off with a quick kiss.

“Thank you Andrea, I understand what you’re trying to say, and I appreciate the reassurance. I have every confidence in your ability to remain professional.” She kissed Andy one more time before grabbing hold of her briefcase. As she passed Andy, heading for the study door, she goosed the girl good and proper. Andy squealed and rubbed her assaulted butt cheek.

“My ability to do so however still remains to be tested. Come along Andrea.” And without turning around the Dragon Lady swept from the room followed by a grinning and very happy minion.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1 The fashions, designers and colours mentioned in this chapter are a mixture of the real thing and sparks of my own imagination….can you guess what’s what?? ;) Seriously there’s a prize for the one who gets it right.   
> AN 2 No I am not being paid for product placement of a particular pink medicament, lol, it just seems to have invaded my story and poor Emily’s life.  
> AN 3 A nod of thanks to Gin for some feedback that made me really think and which I hope I’ve addressed a little bit here.  
> AN 4 A nod and a wink to QH with reference to a Miranda remark in the opening section. Heheh

_******_

Miranda sailed through the outer offices of Runway at 12:40, she said not a word as she dumped her coat and bag on Emily’s desk and continued on her way into her office. As Emily finished hanging Miranda’s coat up she grabbed her phone and quickly tapped out a text to Andy. “Where are you!? Miranda’s here! Get here ten minutes ago!”

As she finished the text, she heard Miranda call her name from the inner office. The red-head stalled for a split second trying to process the confirmation that just like at the townhouse that morning, Miranda was once again speaking at her usual quiet, but audible volume. Emily wasn’t sure if this change would continue or not and decided not to delete the bookmarks for hearing aids she’d accrued, just in case. Her mind getting back in gear, she hurried into Miranda’s office.

“Did you get lost?” Was there a temporal anomaly in my doorway that whisked you to some alternate timeline Emily?” Miranda smirked at the girl’s stuttering denial and launched into a list of instructions for her, which she scribbled furiously onto her notepad.

“Gather all the Runway staff who are in the building and have them at the Production meeting at 2:00pm. Go to the Closet and find the blue Stella McCartney off the shoulder tunic from her fall collection and the vintage Westwood steel blue romper from 1998. Also I seem to remember Donna doing a Maya blue flounced skirt in her 2003 spring collection get that as well.  Get the Betsy Johnson tuft blue and haze blue mini dress collection from her first season of ready to wear. And the Fraiche scarves I saw last month, all the turquoise and aqua- marine shades.  I want a meeting this week with Vera Wang’s people, I want the full showing of ready to wear evening gowns she was working on, especially the aqua marine and stardust grey material. When Andrea arrives go and get me a new Blackberry, I want the same kind as my previous one not a newer version. Give it to Andrea before this afternoon’s meeting so she can programme my contacts list and schedule into it.” Without looking up from her desk where she was sorting through the contents of her briefcase she finished absentmindedly, “That’s all.”

Emily jumped to the tasks she’d been given and had just finished leaving a message at Vera Wang’s office when she heard Andy’s arrival behind her.  Without bothering to look up, she continued typing out the e-mail summoning anyone at Runway to the two o’clock meeting, and still managed to take the opportunity to snipe at Andy as she worked.

“Well you took your sweet time, did you crawl to work, or did you sleep through the alarm because you were all tired out from texting people at four in the morning? When you’ve delivered the coffee go and get Miranda a new Blackberry, she wants…” she was interrupted by Miranda’s decidedly biting call.

“Emily.”

The red-head’s face paled at the icy tone.  Still without sparing a glance toward Andy, she scurried into Miranda’s office at top speed, coming to a halt directly in front of Miranda’s desk.

Andy took the time to shrug out of her coat before gathering Miranda’s latte from the tray of Starbucks and following Emily into the Dragon’s den, she stopped just inside the doorway while Miranda spoke to Emily. 

Earlier Miranda had instructed Roy to drop Andy directly in front of the coffee shop before continuing on to Elias Clarke. This allowed them to arrive separately and had the added bonus of assisting Andy to stay dry for a longer part of the journey, as the dull grey day had turned drizzly.

“Emily are you quite well?”  Miranda looked at her nominal First Assistant intently, her displeasure apparent in her raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

Shocked at the question Emily managed to squeak, “Yes Miranda, I’m well.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” the older woman’s look took on a decidedly feral quality as she continued. “So, if you are not ill, not suffering from some disorder affecting your cognitive abilities, could you explain why you were about to send Andrea to carry out a task that I had assigned to you?”

Emily opened her mouth but no words came out to supply a reply to the question.  She closed her mouth and her shoulders sagged in defeat as she finally managed to whisper the only thing she could say, “No Miranda.”

“Hmmm, I see.”

Steepling her fingers under her chin, Miranda continued to pin Emily with her intense gaze.  Noticing Andy standing uncertainly in the doorway, she had to repress a smile. She thought back to what the brunette had said before they’d left her study and her eyes took on a menacing glint as she straightened in her chair shrugging her shoulders to left and right giving the strange but unmistakable impression of unfurling wings. Andy’s eyes grew large in recognition of what Miranda was doing, and marvelled how, with such a simple movement, the Dragon Lady became larger than life and prepared to unleash her fiery breath.

“Emily I’ve always prided myself on being a straightforward individual, have I failed in that endeavour? Have I become less than clear when giving instructions? Have I been wafting commands to the four winds in hopes that someone within hearing will see that a task is completed? Is that the reason I’m surrounded by incompetence and mediocrity?”

At the mention of _‘wafting commands’_ Andy nearly snorted out loud, before she managed to viciously bite her lower lip. She focused her gaze over Miranda’s shoulder on the skyline of New York, making sure she avoided eye contact with Miranda because she knew if she saw the hint of mischief that was very likely glinting in the editor’s eye, she’d be rolling on the floor in laughter. Nope, she would not react to that question, she wouldn’t! Although she was sure Emily hadn’t caught it, Andy was tickled at the undertone of self-knowledge in which Miranda had coated that statement. She thought Miranda might even have added it in order to share an inside moment with the brunette. Miranda continued to glare at poor Emily as she stood up and leaned over her desk to emphasise her next point.

 “If I want Andrea to do something I will tell Andrea to do it. If I tell you to do it I expect _you_ to do it. Is that a concept within your limited grasp?” Miranda’s lip curled even as she said the final question in a saccharine sweet tone. The unnerving effect of the curled lip and hard as flint gaze caused both Emily and Andrea to shiver involuntarily, but not for the same reasons.

“Yes Miranda.” Emily managed to say between audible gulps.

Miranda sat back down and relaxed into her chair as she flicked a wrist toward the cowering woman in front of her.

“You have your instructions, I’m sure they will keep you busy until the meeting, I don’t expect to see you until then. That’s all.”

Emily turned so suddenly she made Andy jump in surprise and she just managed to keep the Starbucks steady in her hand without spilling it. As she struggled with the tray Emily looked at Andy for the first time that morning and her eyes bugged out when she saw what the brunette was wearing.  She glared up at Andy’s face and immediately registered Andy’s bruised eye, still visible under the concealer. She looked at Andy and then swung back to look at Miranda with wide eyes and then back at Andy.

Emily’s mind whirred and worked and leapt to an amazing feat of creative, indeed down right hallucinogenic accounting. Adding one, Andy’s black eye, and one, Andy wearing the designer clothes she’d delivered to Miranda earlier in the morning, the red-head created the dizzying product of _seventeen billion_ , … Miranda’s terrible mood having finally made her snap she’d hit Andy when she’d delivered the Book the night before, and had then trapped the brunette in the Townhouse until Emily could deliver the clothes that would bribe Andy not to sue her boss.   

She looked back at Miranda once more, eyes wide with fear she squeaked and ran from the room pausing only momentarily to grab her coat and bag from the outer office before continuing her sprint down the hall. Safely ensconced in the elevator and almost on auto-pilot, she rummaged in her purse and pulled a small bottle of a bright pink hue from its depths.  As she raised the medicine to her lips she was struck with a vivid memory of her morning nightmare and pulled the bottle away from her face, capping and pushing it back into her purse she hastily decided that the risk of chundering all over the Elias Clarke foyer was preferable to choking down any more Pepto Bismol.

*****

Andy stood watching Emily disappear around the corner before turning back to Miranda with a truly bemused look on her face.

“Okay, you were on top form for minion terrorising, not to mention that very effective …” Andy waved her hand fluttering her fingers toward Miranda’s shoulders, “… um, pretend wing thing you did, but damn, Em was seriously spooked. What’s that about?”  As she spoke she moved forward and placed the Starbucks’ cup in its usual location on the editor’s desk.

Miranda smirked and reached for her coffee, slowly savouring her first sip as she considered Emily’s reaction. She had been able to read Emily like a book from the minute the girl had started as her Second Assistant just under three years ago.  She’d noticed how Emily had been drawn back to Andy’s face more than once and Miranda made a fairly accurate guess at what interpretation Emily had put on Andy’s injury.

“I believe Emily has interpreted your black eye to mean that my temper finally got the better of me and that I assaulted you.”

Andy looked truly taken aback at Miranda’s statement.

 “Oh no! Are you sure? I mean surely she can’t think you’d actually hit me? That’s ridiculous!”

Miranda took another sip from her cup before replying.

 “Well it was my elbow that did the damage Andrea, so I suppose in a way I did assault you.”

“That was an accident Miranda, it’s not like you actually came at me intending to…” quite suddenly the colour drained from Andy’s face and her hands flew to cover her mouth.

“Oh my God! It was me. I… oh God…”

Miranda rose from her seat and hurried over to the clearly upset young woman, who now had tears shimmering in her eyes.

 “I assaulted you Miranda. Oh God, I.. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know how I didn’t see it….” She looked at Miranda as the older woman reached her side and finished in a whimper. “Please forgive me, I’m so sorry.”

 Miranda reached behind Andy and shut her office door before pulling the distraught girl into a firm hug. Andy started crying in earnest and Miranda held her tight rubbing her back until her body relaxed a little and her sniffles lessened. Pulling back a little but keeping Andy within the circle of her arms Miranda caught and held Andy’s gaze.

“Andrea I want you to listen to me very carefully. You did not assault me.”

Andy started to protest but was cut short by Miranda’s fingers on her lips asking for her silence.

“Tsk, I said listen and I mean that you must really hear what I am saying Andrea. You did NOT assault me last night. You had no intention of harming me, you didn’t hurt me, I know you never would.  You weren’t doing it for your own pleasure or satisfaction or for any other reason other than a sincere desire to help me. Some people might say that it was assault, lawyers mostly I imagine, but as far as I am concerned Andrea, you didn’t assault me,” she paused as she raised Andy’s chin up and stroked away an errant tear with her thumb, “no you didn’t assault me, you helped me, you saved me from myself.”

Andy blinked at her and Miranda gave a little snort before continuing, “And you know how scary I can be… even to myself.” Miranda smiled as Andy replied with a snort of her own. “So if you feel you need to apologise, I accept the apology and offer one of my own for having put you in that situation in the first place.”

A little dazed from hearing Miranda apologise, Andy hugged her close.

“Um, okay, I really am sorry. At the time I was just so worried about you. I…I thought you might have a stroke or something you were so tense and your face was so red…”  She hazarded a glance up at Miranda’s face where she caught a look of mild irritation morph into one of amusement as she watched the famous Priestly eyebrow inching up Miranda’s forehead.

“Right. So.  Two mini tantrums for me today, that’s my quota. I promised this morning not to lose it and get angry, and I promise now, not to lose it and start blubbering again.” She stroked Miranda’s cheek and impishly kissed the bump on her nose before quietly and seriously finishing, “I heard you Miranda, and thank you, I’m glad you know that I would never hurt you.”

Miranda looked steadily into the chocolate brown depths of Andrea’s eyes before moving forward and giving her a long, lingering and deep kiss that left the brunette breathless but smiling.

“Miranda, if you want me to keep my promise about the tantrums, don’t reward them with toe curling kisses like that.”

 “Who said I was rewarding _you_ Andrea?” Miranda smiled devilishly back at her and Andy let out a full throated laugh at that. Realising that they were still firmly held in each other’s arms, Andy gently disengaged from Miranda and took a step back.

“Time for me to keep my other promise now I think. It’s almost one and I’m sure Leslie is outside waiting for you.” She stepped a little further back toward the door.

Miranda looked at her quizzically wondering what promise Andy was referring to, but when Leslie was mentioned she realised Andy was referring to her promise to be professional. Remembering her own reply she straightened her blouse and replied.

“Yes, right. Show her in if she’s there Andrea, and make sure you sit this out of temptations way when we start our meeting with her.” As she said the word _this_ she had goosed Andy again before she turned and made her way back to her desk.

Andy squeaked at her second goosing of the morning and wagged an admonishing finger at Miranda, who unrepentantly returned the admonishment with a wicked grin. Andy struggled to dampen the huge grin on her own face as she headed for the outer office.  Fortunately by the time she actually opened the door she was wearing a more sedate version of her signature smile, and a good thing too as Leslie was indeed waiting just in front of Andy’s desk.

Continuing to smile, Andy invited her into Miranda’s office closing the door behind them and ushering Leslie to one of the two seats in front of Miranda’s desk. She sat in the second chair, flinching just a tad at the tenderness Miranda had produced with her pinch. Settling herself she couldn’t help noticing the gleam of mischief in Miranda’s eyes when the older woman had noticed her mild discomfort. _‘Looks like she failed her professionalism test with flying colours,’_ was Andy’s thought as she prepared to take any notes that might be needed in the meeting.

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Andy walked Leslie to the elevator at the end of their meeting, neither saying much, everything had already been said in Miranda’s office. Andy had been pleased with the PR Rep’s professionalism, especially how she hadn’t batted an eye at the brunette’s presence in the meeting, or the fact that she and Miranda had sat together on the couch the whole time.

Leslie and Miranda had drafted a prepared response to be used should any images end up leaked to the press. Miranda had been content with the PR rep’s advice that any response would stress the fact that the images were of two adults in a consensual physical relationship, she had been less enthusiastic with the suggestion that they also emphasise that Stephen was the wrong doer in the situation, the one who had broken the law. More specifically Miranda disliked it when the other woman had described her as the ‘victim’ in the situation. Andy had managed to smooth that over with a few gentle words and the meeting had ended amicably.  

When the elevator arrived Leslie paused before stepping in and smiled encouragingly as she gave Andy one last piece of advice. “Stay close to her Andy, Miranda’s a pro when it comes to dealing with the press, but when the girls are involved she may be tempted to say or do something she wouldn’t otherwise. It will be bad enough as it is and that will just feed the frenzy.”

Andy gave a small pained smile before replying. “I’m more worried about me losing it than Miranda. When I think about what those vultures are likely to say, I already want to strangle the lot of them.”

Leslie smiled and patted her arm then pressed the button giving a little wave as the doors closed. Andy sighed and turned back to re-join Miranda. It was time for the next hurdle of the day, the staff meeting.

Miranda gathered up the folders she’d brought from the house slipped them in a portfolio binder and headed out the door, meeting up with Andy in the reception area.  The brunette fell into step beside her as they made their way toward the large conference room. The younger woman glanced sideways and gently brushed her hand against Miranda’s free hand as she smiled. Miranda took her hand and gave it a fleeting squeeze before releasing it and continuing on their journey with the ghost of a smile quirking her lips upward just the tiniest bit. 

As they turned the corner and made their way into the large and crowded conference room the smile disappeared and Andy dropped a step behind to follow her into the room.  In full Dragon mode, Miranda made her way to the head of the conference table laying the portfolio down and surveying the room to assess how many of her minions were present.  Thinking of that word as Andy had used it earlier, she allowed herself a mental smirk, one that came nowhere near her facial features.

As expected, the entire production team was there, as well as at least 20 other people from different departments, and she noted with satisfaction that the all department heads were present. It occurred to her that that happy circumstance was quite likely as a result of Andy’s handiwork, rather than any exceptional work ethic on their part. Fixing her frosty gaze on each person in turn she lost no time in launching into what she had to say to them.

“In the next few days events are going to unfold that will see my personal life come under scrutiny by the press. The scope of that scrutiny may become both intense and possibly unsavoury. Each of you have signed a NDA so the only thing I expect to ever hear said by any Runway employee is, _‘No comment.’_ ” She paused and gave particularly glacial stares to two of the staff she knew were Irv’s creatures before continuing.

“Should I discover that anything other than those two words have crossed any of your lips that person will never work in this industry, this city or the east coast again.” She paused once more for effect. “And be assured I will find out, make sure that everyone in your departments fully understands that fact. That’s all.”

With that Miranda sat down waiting for those not involved in the production meeting to file swiftly out of the room. Andy had taken the time during the speech to prepare Miranda a coffee which she quietly placed beside her hand before taking a seat against the wall and opening her note book prepared to take notes. Emily closed the door and took a seat beside Andy, giving a snide little look at Andy’s pad as she pulled out a Dictaphone from her pocket and clicked the on button setting the little machine on the arm rest of her chair.

“Right, the fiasco of the June edition, what do you propose we do to fix this, and stay within budget?” She smiled snidely, “Well, at least not go horrendously over-budget.”

Nigel gave a small snort before corralling the rest of the group to voice their ideas for possible changes. These ideas varied from the extreme measure of scrapping the main portion of the issue and starting from scratch, through the slightly more imaginative and possible idea of changing the theme from the fire of inspiration to the multi-colours of the desert landscape, using the blues as an oasis motif, all the way to the ridiculous suggestion of just using the turquoise jewellery without comment. The person who made the latter suggestion spent the rest of the meeting trying to disappear into the fabric of his chair after Miranda had not only pursed her lips, but rolled her eyes as well.

After more than 20 minutes of continued talking with dwindling returns Miranda finally held her hand up for silence and then placed that hand on top of the folder she’d drawn from the portfolio on the table.

“Enough. You’ve had all morning and half the afternoon to confer before this meeting and this is the best you can come up with? Perhaps Francesca is not the only person who needs to find other employment.” No one said anything, but everyone shifted uneasily in their seats, wondering where the axe would fall.

“Well it’s a good thing that someone here was able to combine a proper work ethic with a decent amount of creativity, Andrea come and take Keisha’s place.”

The silence was palpable as they all looked at the second assistant who was looking like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Miranda looked her way and lifted her eyebrow slightly. Emily’s gaze was riveted on her as well, a look of shock and dismay written large on the red-head’s features.

“By all means, move at a glacial pace, you know how that thrills me.” This pointed use of a phrase from Paris made Andy look sharply at Miranda where she caught a fleeting warmth in the older woman’s gaze she knew was meant just for her. While that made her feel better, she was still utterly confused about why she was being asked to join in the meeting. Keisha got up and moved to take Andy’s seat, and the brunette sat in the newly vacated space to Miranda’s left. As she sat down Miranda slid the folder in front of Andy opening it at the same time.

“What are your ideas for saving this issue Andrea?”

Andy looked down at the papers in front of her realising immediately they were her notes from the night before, and her head whipped up as she gaped at Miranda disbelievingly. Miranda merely raised her eyebrow once again and gave a barely perceptible tilt of her head to encourage the younger woman. Andy licked her lips and glanced down at the folder before straightening and looking at Miranda once more. The look in the older woman’s expression seemed to be saying, _‘You can do this’_ Firming her shoulders a little Andy looked around the table and took her notes from the folder.

“Um, right. Well the theme for the June issue is the _Flame of Inspiration_ , with the idea to show case how the beauty of the models is the inspiration for the designers and their work. So, of course the layout was focused on all the different colours of flames, red, orange and yellow.”

The brunette paused to take a breath and glance at Miranda to see if she was annoyed by her stating the obvious before getting to her actual ideas. She expected to see signs of impatience, however the Editor’s face was attentive but neutral in expression so she pressed on.

“The first idea I had was to perhaps change the theme from fire as inspiration, to a more general theme of Fire and Ice. Umm, well that way I thought we’d still be able to use all the colours we’ve already planned and just make the additions of some layouts featuring blues and greys as the ice part of the equation.”

There was a low buzz of comments between the production team as she shuffled the papers to get to the section where she’d jotted down her other idea, when she’d found the right section she looked up and continued.

“Well, I kind of really liked the original idea about women being the flame of inspiration for the clothes and accessories.” She looked fondly at Nigel before she continued. “A wise man once pointed out to me that fashion is art after all.”  Nigel winked at her and she smiled.

“But when I noticed that all but one of the designers that were being featured were men, I,    well, um, I thought it was kind of sexist, saying that the female models were just the canvas that the male designers were painting on, like they could inspire but not create themselves.”

She licked her lips and realised her throat was drying up and it was becoming more difficult to speak. A flash of movement to her right caught her eye and she glanced over just as Miranda handed her a glass of Pellegrino. Smiling her thanks she took a long sip and put the glass down before continuing.

“Then I was looking at a gas flame on the stove and it suddenly came to me, that the hottest part of the flame is actually blue/white, not any of the shades of red to yellow. So, um, well what if we kept the red and orange material from the male designers, but added a selection of blue and white material done by female designers, like Elizabeth Haskell’s jewellery. So we’d be showing women as both inspiration and artist, women at the heart of the flame.”

Andy looked around the table and noted with relief that all the looks she received were showing interest and not boredom, or worse, disdain. She finished up with a little, “Anyway, that’s it, those are my ideas,” and she sat down, at which point she realised her hands were shaking like leaves so she pulled them into her lap to steady them.

The table broke out into comments and questions as the team debated the pros and cons of both of the ideas, the one thing everyone there seemed to agree upon was that both of Andy’s ideas were much better than what they’d come up with themselves. Miranda didn’t let them waste much time with the debate before she waded in with the choice she’d already decided to go with while she’d been having her morning coffee. Unsurprisingly the most powerful woman in the fashion industry chose the theme of women at the heart of the flame of inspiration.

The decision made, the production team got down to business with the material Miranda had Emily gather from the closet and more suggestions were tabled as the meeting moved on at a steady pace. By the time 7:00 pm rolled around everyone had their assigned tasks, the June issue was back on track and even Miranda was satisfied with the progress they’d made, so she sent everyone home except Emily, Andy and Nigel who all trailed her back to her office. Nigel still needed to work out with Miranda what they were going to do for editorial for the revamped issue, and the two assistants wanted to get a jump on the work they needed to do because of the changes made during the meeting.

Emily was in a foul mood and had refused to speak to Andy ever since Miranda had handed over to her to give voice to her ideas. Added to that she’d spent most of the meeting darting withering glances toward the brunette and sniffing disdainfully every time anyone had asked for Andy’s opinion. Andy knew how upset Emily was and as ever had tried to smooth things over, but she’d been rebuffed each time. She came up to Emily’s desk to try to assuage the Brit yet once more.

“Come on Em, this was a total fluke and you know it. I was just trying to do something to help Miranda and the magazine; you can’t hold that against me.”

Emily glared at Andy as she replied.  “Just watch me.” Shrugging and giving up the struggle for the moment, Andy went back to her desk.

Twenty minutes later Miranda and Nigel came out her office the latter sporting a knowing smirk as they both stopped in front of Andy. As the brunette looked up at them, Miranda dropped the folder of Andy’s notes on the desk in front of the younger woman before she spoke.

“Nigel agrees with me that the article you outlined in here shows considerable promise. You have two weeks to submit the full version of 4000 words, with additional information about the other women designers we’ll be using.”

Andy jerked to a standing position as she gaped at Miranda. “You want me to write a lead article for Runway?” She squeaked, her voice breaking on the last word.

Miranda looked at her intently before saying quietly, “Do not disappoint me Andrea.”

She then angled herself away from Nigel as she winked at the younger woman and mouthed, _‘I believe in you,’_ before she sauntered back into her office. Andy flopped back into her seat as Nigel chuckled at her and Emily, who had gone chalk white muttered a forlorn _bloody hell_.

“Well done six. I’m sure you can knock that up in the 15 minutes you have before falling into bed each night.” Seeing the girl’s troubled look, he relented and added.

”Seriously Andy the article has real potential. I’m sure you’ll do Miranda proud.”  He just couldn’t help himself from adding the next part. “Either that or you’ll never work in this town again.”

Laughing he dodged her swipe at his shoulder. Taking a step away from the scowling brunette he turned just in time to see Emily chugging down a 16oz bottle of Pepto Bismol as she glared at them both, at which point he dissolved into gales of laughter which only grew as he caught Andy’s muttered, _‘Not helping.’_

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Andrea.”  Miranda’s voice floated from her office.

Andy glanced at her watch as she rose to answer the summons, noting that it was almost 9:00 pm. She was on her own as Nigel had escorted Emily out of the office over an hour earlier.  He’d confiscated her half-finished bottle of pink medicine and led the still shocked red head from the room, promising Andy to make sure she got home alright. Andy had given Serena a call letting her know that Emily was on her way and filling her in on the events that took place after the meeting.

As the young woman entered the office she saw Miranda standing at her window looking out at the illuminated buildings of the city that never sleeps. She made her way over to stand behind the editor, placing her hand gently at the small of her back. Miranda hummed and leaned back allowing Andy to slip her arm around her waist pulling her more fully into the younger woman’s embrace. They stood like this for several more minutes just enjoying the quiet and each other’s closeness.

“Come home with me.” Miranda murmured as she covered the hand resting on her stomach with her own.

Andy wrapped her other arm around the slender waist and nuzzled behind one ear to whisper into the pale pink shell.

“Of course.”

Miranda pulled her even closer and shivered a little as the brunette laid soft kisses around her ear and down her neck. The movement was slow and oh so soft and Miranda felt like she was truly melting into the warm body behind her. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, so many aspects all at once, arousal, contentment and a bone deep sense of absolute rightness, and she revelled in it, wanting to abandon herself in the moment.

Andy was in heaven, she couldn’t imagine anything closer to perfection than holding this amazing woman in her arms. Miranda’s unique perfume filled her senses making her feel dizzy and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from leaning in and kissing her again and again as she made her way down the smooth white neck.  When she reached the slope where the neck met the shoulder she placed one last kiss just at the edge of the silk collar of Miranda’s blouse. Gently she turned Miranda in her arms so that they were face to face, where she could look deeply into those beautiful blue eyes. What she saw there, the hint of fire, the gentleness and especially the vulnerability made her melt and pull the older woman into a fierce hug, one that the older woman returned wholeheartedly.

Eventually Miranda loosened the embrace and pulled back sliding her hands down Andy’s arms until she was holding both her hands as she leant back against the desk. Reaching forward she straightened Andy’s lapel and brushed the long chocolate coloured tresses back behind the girl’s shoulder.

“Will you stay the night?” She lowered her eyes as she continued. “I’m, not… that is…” She cleared her throat and looked up as she found the courage to express a certain amount of weakness, something she’d never dreamed she would be willing to do. “I really don’t want to be alone in that huge house.”

Andy’s heart clenched as she realised the incredible amount of trust the older woman had just placed in her by allowing her to see her vulnerability. Squeezing Miranda’s hands she stepped forward to give her a quick kiss before answering.

“Sure, that would be great. Um, but I’ll need to stop off at my apartment first to pick up a change of clothes and a few other essentials.” 

Miranda smiled and nodded. “Acceptable. Would you call Roy please I’d like to get home before ten if possible.”

Andy giggled at the little thrill hearing Miranda say _‘please’_ still gave her, before heading out to her desk to get her cell phone. She stopped just short of the door as she realised something about their plans that might be a problem.

“Umm, Miranda, do you want me to take the subway to my place and join you later. I mean won’t Roy think it’s a bit weird going to my apartment first and then…” She trailed off as she took in Miranda’s expression.

“Right, of course, what was I thinking, I’ll just text him.”

“Yes, do. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

Fifty minutes later both women were sitting at Miranda’s kitchen table tucking into a light meal of home-made soup with rolls and salad. Andy gave a mental high five to Cara, grateful that the housekeeper had still managed to leave Miranda well provisioned for the weekend, even given her sudden and unexpected decampment to Connecticut with the twins.

Miranda had made a brief call on the ride over to wish her darlings pleasant dreams, and Andy had revelled in the tenderness in Miranda’s voice and the soft look on her face as she spoke to her children. As they continued to eat in companionable silence, Andy’s mind kept coming back to the young red-heads and how this situation was bound to affect them. Realistically she knew there really was no way to keep them in the dark, even if they were out in the manicured ‘ _wilds’_ of Connecticut.

The fact was that even if you banned them from accessing the internet or watching the news, they had their cell phones and would be in constant touch with their friends and school chums, all of whom would be sure to inform them should their mother end up in print or on the net. The more she thought about it the more convinced she was that Miranda needed to talk to the twins first, so that she could control how they found out, and field any questions the girls were likely to have.  

So intent on her thoughts had she become she’d almost missed the fact that both of them had finished their meal and Miranda seemed quite content to just sit and enjoy the quiet. Andy glanced up and saw her with her head tilted back breathing deeply as she appeared to study the ceiling. Making a decision Andy reached out and patted the older woman’s hand to get her attention, changing the pat into an affectionate squeeze when Miranda dropped her chin and smiled at her before returning the squeeze.

“Hey, what say I make us some camomile tea and we relax in the study before we head to bed?” Andy couldn’t help the slight shiver those words caused, despite the clear understanding she was taking about two separate beds.

“Hmmm, that would be lovely.”

Miranda stood and began to clear the table as Andy moved toward the kettle. Each fell to their tasks as if they’d been doing these things together for years. That sense of fitting together, of the rightness of their interactions was a warm glow in both their hearts.  When Andy had the tea ready Miranda picked her cup up and led the way up to the study. They settled comfortably on the sofa each curled up at one end, legs folded under them and half turned to face the other.

Andy took a few sips of tea and then placed her cup on the coffee table and scooted a little closer to the other end of the couch.

“Miranda, listen, I’ve been thinking about it, and I really believe you need to tell Caroline and Cassidy what’s going on.”  She paused as she saw Miranda stiffen and draw back in shock. She reached out and laid her hand on the older woman’s knee.

“I don’t mean the details, but, yeah actually, well to be honest, you may have to be a little more forthcoming than you might want to be.”  She drew breath to continue but was interrupted.

“Absolutely not! They’re 11years old Andrea. They’re Babies! And you want me to invite them into the intimate details of my sex life? Are you mad?”  Miranda continued to tense her body, not happy with this turn of the conversation, she even started to doubt her decisions about Andy.

“Okay, Miranda, just stay calm and listen to what I have to say.” The brunette looked earnestly into seething pools of blue fire, but continued on regardless.

“Listen, I know they still seem like babies to you, and that really you’d like them to stay babies forever.” She smiled gently. “According to my mom, that’s hardwired into the DNA change that happens when you give birth.”

Miranda’s tension eased just a tad and before she could stop herself she snorted, “Clever woman your mother.”

Andy grinned and nodded, “Oh yeah, but I’m pretty sure that pearl of wisdom actually came from Nana.” Before continuing she reached for the older woman’s hand and took it firmly in her own.

“The fact is Miranda that the girls are closer to 12 than 11 and the world is a different place than it used to be. Childhood innocence doesn’t last anywhere near as long as it used to, you may not like it, but you have to accept it as a fact if you want to do the right thing by the girls, and I know that’s what you want.” Andy paused in case there was anything Miranda wanted to interject.

“Moving them out to their grandmother’s keeps the press away from them, but it won’t be able to keep them away from the press. They’ll need to be in touch with school to get their assignments and class work and you know they’ll be constantly texting their friends. Even if you could keep them off the net, and banned them from watching the news on television, how could you explain taking away their phones? The simple answer is you couldn’t. They’re clever kids Miranda and even if you did all that, they’d still find a way to contact their friends and if this hits the news you know those kids aren’t going to hold anything back when they tell the girls.” 

Andy watched as Miranda’s scowl weakened to be replaced by a look of uncertainty. She moved to sit right next to her and put her arm around the older woman’s shoulder, relieved when Miranda allowed this and even leaned in a little to the embrace.

“Sweetheart, you need to talk to them, explain the facts, without the graphic details, but it should be you that tells them, not their 12 year old friends.”

Having said what she needed to, Andy moved away just a tad to give Miranda some space. She picked up her now lukewarm tea and finished it off while she waited.  Some few minutes later she noticed Miranda straighten her shoulders and take a sip of her own tea.

“I…I can’t talk to them on the phone. This is too big for that, I’d need to speak to them in person.” She looked up at Andy, allowing the younger woman to see that vulnerable side of herself yet again.

“Will you come with me? It’s a two hour drive, more if the traffic is bad, but we could go tomorrow and be back in the city by the evening.”

Andy pulled her into a firm but gentle hug assuring her as she did that she would definitely come with her, and she’d help her talk to the girls if that was what she wanted, or she’d just make sure to be there for her afterward.

“Whatever you need Miranda, if I can provide it, it’s yours.”

Miranda sunk into those loving arms and drew strength from the embrace, once again marvelling at the serendipity of the universe; slammed doors and opened windows indeed she thought.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1 I tried a little Google Earthing (Heheh’verbing’ weirds language.) of East Haven and noticed that there was a good range of house and property styles there, so I felt it was a good place to locate the twins’ grandmother. If you happen to know that I got that wrong…kick start your imagination and pretend…kind of like actors do. heheh

Andy slowly opened her eyes to morning sunshine streaming in through a gap in the drawn curtains. As she instinctively tried to move away from the unwelcome intrusion, she was brought suddenly wide awake when she realised that she was pinned under someone laying half across her back.

 _‘Miranda’_ her thoughts coalesced as she looked down at the hand wrapped possessively around her abdomen and felt the older woman’s shallow even breaths on the back of her neck. Miranda, though still asleep, sensed Andy’s movement and pulled her back into her embrace and threw a leg across the back of the brunette’s thighs. Andy smiled, taking the time to enjoy Miranda’s unknowing somnolent cuddle. Her smile morphed into a wide grin as she remembered how she’d come to be in this position.

She and Miranda had gone to bed shortly after they’d finish their meal, planning on an early morning start the next day. They’d indulged in a lengthy session of good night kisses in the corridor before both regretfully headed to their different bedrooms. Andy had slipped in to her usual night-ware of cotton tank top and boxer shorts and then proceeded to spend the next two hours tossing, turning, staring at the ceiling and wondering how Miranda was and if she was managing to sleep.

At almost half past one, Andy decided she’d get herself a drink and slipped quietly downstairs to the kitchen. Deciding she wouldn’t bother with the traditional warm milk, she began to rummage in the fridge to see what was available. Turning around with a bottle of juice in hand, she gave a strangled squeak as the light turned on and she saw Miranda standing in the doorway.

“Um, I couldn’t sleep.”  Andy raised the juice and gave a sheepish grin. “I was just getting something to drink.”

Miranda came into the room and got two glasses from a cupboard before sitting down at the breakfast bar and motioning for Andy to pour for both of them. She settled on the high bar stool style chair and straightened the grey robe over her knees before reaching for her glass. She found herself enjoying the vision of a slightly rumpled and scantily clad Andy scramble to take the seat on the opposite side of the bar.

“Here’s to juice induced slumber.” Miranda tilted the glass toward her companion.

Andy giggled and clinked glasses before drinking. As she put the glass down she reached over to take Miranda’s hand.

“Having trouble sleeping too huh?” Miranda nodded and took another sip of her own juice. She noticed a thoughtful look come over the brunette’s face and she raised her eyebrow in question. Andy took a firmer grip on her hand and sat forward a little before she spoke.

“Listen, I know we’re not ready… to, um…” she paused a little as pink tinged her cheeks. “Well not ready to you know, take things to the next level, or anything but that doesn’t mean that we couldn’t, you know, actually _‘sleep’_ , sleep together.”  Her blush deepened as Miranda smirked at her embarrassment.

“Well, I know I’d sleep better if I was able to know you were sleeping as well.” Andy grumbled as she removed her hand and started to fidget with the hem of her shirt.

Miranda watched her as she considered the proposal. There was no denying how rested she’d felt the night before when she’d fallen asleep in Andy’s arms.  True, that might have had more to do with her physical exhaustion than anything else, but she was very tempted by Andrea’s suggestion. Looking at the younger woman uncomfortably tugging at her tank top, she also remembered her decision not to make things more difficult as they explored this new dynamic to their relationship.

With that in mind she stepped down from her chair, gathered the empty glasses and put them in the dishwasher before returning to Andy.  She took her by the hand and without saying a word, led her up the back stairs, into her own bedroom and nudged her onto the less rumpled side of the bed. She then shook off her robe and moved to her side of the bed.

When Andy saw what the older woman was wearing under her robe, her breath hitched and she started to reconsider the wisdom of her suggestion. Miranda was wearing a white cotton nightshirt which ended mid-thigh leaving a long expanse of toned leg in view, added to which the first three buttons were open at the neck allowing tempting glimpses of her décolletage. Andy gulped as she felt her temperature rise.

Noticing Andy’s discomfort, Miranda gave a little snort as she settled under the duvet.

“Time for bed Andrea, the alarm is set for 8:00am.”

The teasing tone of Miranda’s voice helped Andy to get a hold of her hormones and move to get under the duvet, intent on proving her good intentions of just _‘sleeping’_ while in Miranda’s bed.  At first they both just lay on their backs gently breathing, allowing the warmth and their proximity to help them relax, but then Andy felt Miranda reach out and take hold of her hand. Looking over to see the older woman’s blue eyes focused on her in gentle admiration, Andy turned on her side and used her free hand to trace the features of the most fascinating woman she’d ever known.

When she’d trailed her fingers down to the base of Miranda’s neck, she pulled her forward and peppered her face with gentle kisses. Eventually she paused and gazed into pools of deep sapphire and smiled before gently saying.

“Turn over.”  Miranda raised her eyebrow and Andy smiled. “Trust me sweetie, turn over.”

Miranda rolled over so that her back was to Andy and the brunette wrapped her arm around her waist as she pulled her into a gentle, spooned position. She craned her neck forward and kissed the nape of Miranda’s neck and murmured good night. They were both asleep within a matter of minutes.

Andy was brought back to the present as she felt Miranda nuzzle behind her ear. She smiled at the fact that sometime in the night their positions had been switched. Miranda moved a bit more and then stretched out, straightening her legs and loosening her hold on Andy as she began to wake up. Andy took the opportunity to shift and roll over so that she was facing her bed-mate, immediately smiling at seeing a sleepy Miranda blinking and yawning as she continued to stretch.

“Good morning beautiful.” Andy gave her love a quick kiss on the nose.

“Mmmmmm, good morning to you too darling.” Miranda returned the favour, and they snuggled for a little while until the alarm interrupted them. Miranda gave Andy one last kiss and pushed the duvet off her legs, deftly straightening her nightshirt as she did so and reaching for her robe which had slid to the floor during the night.

“I’m going to shower and head downstairs to bake something to take to the girls. They are a pair of growing monsters these days, all stomach.” She smiled over her shoulder as she headed into her bathroom. Before disappearing she repeated her mock threat from the previous morning. “Best hurry with your own ablutions if you hope to have coffee this morning. We used quite a bit of my stock of beans yesterday.”   Andy chuckled as the door closed behind her, and decided she’d best take the advice, scrambling from the bed and heading back to her own room.

Later, freshly showered and dressed Andy walked into the kitchen to find Miranda taking a tray of freshly baked croissants from the oven. Andy waited for her to put the hot tray down safely before giving her a hug and quick kiss.

 “So, did any coffee survive? Or will I have to have croissants and milk for breakfast?”

Miranda swatted her with the oven mitt, “Who said the croissants are for you Andrea? Did I not say we were on our way to visit two growing monsters this morning?”

“Yeah, but they’re your monsters. And I happen to know that they owe me, big time. It may have only been a C in science but it was an A+ in English and History.”

Andy grinned completely at ease with this wonderfully domestic Miranda and reached round the older woman’s waist snagging a croissant from the baking tray, only to jump back as she juggled the hot pastry frantically between her two hands.

“Yikes! Hot, hot, hot, hot!” 

 “Really Andrea, behave yourself.” Miranda rolled her eyes, just a little and grabbed a plate from the cupboard holding it out for Andy to drop the croissant onto. She placed the plate on the table and motioned Andy to sit down as she proceeded to pour out the last of the coffee into two mugs. She poured cream into one mug before putting hot milk into her own mug and bringing them both to the table.

When they’d finished their breakfast, Miranda packed up the remaining croissants, some handmade fruit preserves and butter into a small wicker basket as Andrea cleared their dishes and started the dishwasher cycle. They both then checked their e-mails and phone messages before gathering their things and the baking and heading to the garage.

A little over an hour later, they were finally free of the city and Andy was free to enjoy the scenery outside of the car as much as she’d been enjoying the view of Miranda confidently handling her pride and joy, an electric blue, 1973, Jaguar V12 Convertible.

The ride thus far had been comfortable for them both, if somewhat on the quiet side, as they negotiated the city traffic, healthy as it was even so early on a Sunday morning. Andy had, without thinking, slipped her hand onto Miranda’s thigh where it had remained as their journey continued. Miranda was aware of the warmth on her leg and the corresponding warmth in her chest at the naturally affectionate gesture.

Settling into the greater speed of the interstate, the older woman decided it was time that she asked some of the questions that had been on her mind since the events of Friday night. Shifting gears, she glanced over at Andy and smiled, eliciting that joyful grin to which she was fast becoming addicted.

“So, Tickling Andrea? Where on earth did you come up with that solution for my ill temper?”

Andy let out a guffaw of laughter at the straightforward and straight out of the blue question, before settling into the story of her Aunt’s e-mail and her cousin’s personal history. Miranda listened with interest.

“And you think that I might be affected by this disability?”

Andy looked quite serious as she replied.

“Firstly, it’s not a disability. Asperger’s is on what they call the Autistic spectrum, and it’s a range of cognitive and social behaviour patterns that may differ from what is considered the ‘norm’, but it is so broad that really about half the population can be plotted somewhere on the spectrum in some way. I mean it covers things from mere social awkwardness all the way to extreme Autism. And secondly, no I don’t think you necessarily have it, but if you did you might have the very high functioning type, which to be honest is _one_ of the most difficult to diagnose and indeed quite difficult to cope with too.”

She squeezed the thigh under her fingertips a little and smiled.

“At the time I was a bit desperate, I really thought you were going to have a stroke or heart attack or something. I was scared and I mean I had to try something. I couldn’t just leave you like that…I couldn’t.”

Miranda patted the hand on her thigh reassuringly.

“Well, if the end result is our realisations about each other and the opportunities that have opened up, I’m glad I was able to take my medicine.” She chuckled and added. “And if you are my medical practitioner, I may even learn to like it.”  Andy smiled but added her heartfelt admission that she hoped not to need to administer such treatment again anytime soon.

The rest of the journey flew by, spent in sporadic conversation as they both took the time to learn more about each other’s lives and backgrounds. Miranda seemed and indeed was, genuinely interested in hearing about Andy’s family and her early life experiences, she felt somehow closer to the young woman, better able to see the building blocks of what had made her the exceptional person she was. Her interest was also another indication to herself that Andy was different from her previous partners, more important to her a mere few days into the budding romance than any of her husbands had been even years into the marriages.

Andy, for her part, was quite taken with the information that Miranda’s ex-mother-in-law, Elizabeth Trent, was apparently fonder of Miranda than her own son James. That this was because of James’s tom-catting all over New York while he was married to Miranda was a notion that flummoxed the brunette completely. Not the maternal disapproval, but that someone who had the good fortune to be with Miranda had chosen to cheat on her, could possibly have wanted anyone other than the silver haired goddess sitting beside her, it was a notion that just didn’t compute.

As they approached their off-ramp leading into East Haven, Andy felt a little better about the location of the meeting ahead. She had been a little afraid it was going to be like entering an enemy camp in order to see the twins, she was much happier now that she realised it was f


	13. Chapter 13

Andy looked with interest at the large, but far from mansion sized house that they drove up to just after noon. They parked in front of the garage and Miranda gave Andy a fleeting smile as they both moved to exit the car. The brunette took the opportunity to stretch her legs and shake out the kinks of the long drive as she took in her surroundings.

 If you had asked her yesterday what the estate of Elizabeth Trent, one of Connecticut’s wealthiest widows, looked like, she would definitely not have described the six bedroom colonial style dwelling that looked almost Norman Rockwellesque in its simple clapboard cladding. However, thanks to their session of sharing on the road, Andy was prepared for the incongruity and knew that the house was Elizabeth’s childhood home that she had moved back to after the death of her parents some 30 years previously. She had come from a well to do background, her father had been a lawyer and then a judge, then she had married into wealth, twice, divorcing one husband and outliving the other.

“Miranda, I see you made good time.” The woman standing by the open door smiled and waited for her guests to make their way from the drive to the front steps. When Miranda drew level she was embraced and Andy was no longer surprised to see Miranda return the affection being offered.

Turning to the younger woman she took her hand in a warm firm hold, “And you must be the incredible Andy I’ve heard so much about.” Seeing the look of surprise on both women’s faces she clarified. “The girls are always talking about you, I think the title “Incredible” was added after the Harry Potter book.” She smiled and stepped aside for them to enter.

“As you weren’t certain about your arrival time I allowed the girls to go with Jake to the hardware store, he’s picking up some things to finish off the new garden shed and Cassidy has been helping him, they should be back shortly, why don’t we have some coffee while we wait?” 

Andy and Miranda followed Elizabeth into a well- appointed kitchen with all the modern appliances and gadgets you could think of, but set in what was essentially a room straight from the 1950s. Andy loved it, and Miranda gave a small smile in response to the girl’s obvious delight.

The three spent the next twenty minutes talking as Miranda filled her ex-mother in law in on the events of the previous few days and what was likely to happen in the coming weeks. Elizabeth was the perfect balance of angry, appalled and supportive without being cloying and Andy could definitely understand why the two older women had remained friends, beyond the connection of the twins.

The slam of the back porch screen signalled the return of the children followed by the scramble of boots being kicked off and jackets discarded before a rumbled rush of stockinged feet through the utility room. The two read-heads barrelled into the kitchen looking for their grandmother and skidded to a surprised halt when they saw their mother and her assistant at the kitchen table. Cassidy immediately moved forward to hug her mother, while Caroline held back crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at the unexpected visitors.

“Hello Bobbseys, did you enjoy your outing with Jake?” Miranda asked as she straightened Cassidy’s hair and the collar of her shirt. Before Cassidy could take breath Caroline spoke first.

“Why did you send us to Gramma’s and why are you here?” She paused for affect and almost sneered. “Is there a fashion show in New Haven? There must be, you’ve brought your assistant with you.”

Miranda watched the more volatile of her twins, the one she thought ruefully was just that bit more of a chip off her block than that of their father. Sighing inwardly she glanced over at Andrea in apology for Caroline’s belligerence only to be met with warm brown eyes and a slight smile of understanding.

“Right, I’m going to go and take Jake some coffee, it was quite good of him to work on a Sunday to get that shed finished, I want to make sure I keep his good will. He’s the best handyman and gardener I’ve ever had and I wouldn’t want to lose him.” With that Elizabeth prepared a large mug and left the way the girls had entered, through the back door.

 With Elizabeth gone, silence reigned in the kitchen, Cassidy had her arm around Miranda in a one armed hug and Caroline still hadn’t changed her confrontational stance over by the refrigerator. Andy watched them all noting with fascination how genuinely different the girl’s characters were, but her main concern was for Miranda who seemed unable to move forward to the conversation that needed to happen.

Leaning forward in her chair but being careful not to get too close to Miranda’s personal space, Andy asked in a low voice. “Do you want me to start things off?” The concern and especially the offer to do something concrete to help her was enough to spur Miranda on to take control of the situation. She smiled sadly at her love and shook her head.

“Thank you but no, it’s my job and it’s time I did it.  Caroline please come over here and sit down.” As she called for the farther away twin she also nudged Cassidy to take the chair next to her own. Caroline didn’t move at first but a firmer and more pointed look from her mother had her shuffling reluctantly to take the last remaining chair at the table which put her between Cassidy and Andy.

 

Having made the decision to get on with it, Miranda proceeded to tell her daughters about what was happening and what the possible outcome might be in the near future, including why she wanted them to remain at their grandmother’s for the next few weeks at least. Cassidy’s face exhibited different emotions as the story unfolded, by turns, shock, sadness, confusion and anger ghosted over her features but only in the natural progression of the information she was receiving, there was none of the speed and uncertainty that those same emotions had shown when they had appeared on her mother’s face two days before and occasionally since.

Caroline on the other hand seemed to have a near blank expression as the details unfolded, were it not for the fact that her eyes stayed glued to her mother the whole time you’d be forgiven for thinking she wasn’t paying attention at all. Andy, who had the silent opportunity to watch these reactions made sure that she did not look at Caroline directly or in any antagonistic way, but she did note the girl’s body continuing to tense up as Miranda spoke.

Miranda for her part struggled to find the age appropriate words to describe what was going on, taking Andy’s advice she was honest and detailed without being graphic about what the video contained and while she didn’t apologise for her relationship with Stephen she did say she was sorry she hadn’t seen what he was truly like before she had made him such a part of all their lives. As the apology slipped out toward the end Caroline stood up so quickly her chair went shooting out and into the counter behind where she’d been sitting.

“I don’t believe this!!! Everybody I know is going to see you having sex with Stephen?! That’s just sooooo gross!!! How could you do that? Everyone is gonna be laughing at as. We won’t be able to go back to school EVER!!! This is all your fault!!! Everybody leaves because of you, everybody hates you and I hate you too!”  Her face was red and that last, so hurtful, accusation faltered noticeably in its’ delivery as she burst into tears before she’d choked out the last word. Wiping furiously at her eyes she turned and ran from the room fleeing the look of utter devastation on her mother’s face.

Cassidy clung to Miranda hoping in some way her physical reassurance would take away from her sister’s selfish tantrum. She wasn’t happy about the situation, she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the potential media frenzy, and she already missed her friends and didn’t want to stay away from school for a long time, even if some of the snotty kids were mean to them when they got back. Part of Cassidy was disappointed with her mother, she was supposed to protect them against things like this, but the greater part of her understood that this time it really wasn’t her mother’s fault and it was that part she acted on. Hugging her again, she reassured her mom that Caroline was just throwing a fit and she’d calm down, she hadn’t meant what she’d said. 

As she clung to Miranda, Cassidy was surprised to suddenly feel a second set of arms encircle both her and her mother and embracing them both with comforting warmth. She looked up into kind brown eyes as Andy silently thanked the girl for her support for Miranda. To Cassidy’s further surprise, Miranda turned her head and pressed her face into Andy’s neck shaking a little as she fought back her tears. Andy reached up and stroked her hair for a moment before gently disengaging from both Priestly women. She looked down at the pair before addressing them.

“I’m going to go and talk to Caroline. Take care of your mom okay Cass.”  Miranda grabbed her hand to stop her as she started to move away.

“I should talk to her Andrea, she’s my daughter, and this is my problem.”

Andy smiled reassuringly and again to Cassidy’s surprise, reached out and touched Miranda’s cheek.

“You will talk to her Miranda, you’re right you need to, but right now she wants someone to be angry at and lash out at and I can’t let that be you, you’ve got enough on your plate.” She cupped Miranda’s cheek and looked intently into blue eyes. “Let me do this for you, okay?”  Miranda moved her face and kissed Andy’s palm before she nodded and turned her attention back to the now wide-eyed Cassidy.

Andy walked back through the house the way she and Miranda had entered. The sounds after Caroline left the kitchen gave little doubt that she had run upstairs and slammed the door of her room. As Andy approached the bottom of the staircase Elizabeth came out of the living room and casually handed Andy a key.

“Just in case my grand-daughter decides to be particularly truculent; it’s a master key and will work even if she’s left the key in the lock on her side of the door. Her room is the third door on the left.” With that advice she walked past and headed toward the kitchen.

Andy listened carefully trying to make out any sounds from inside the room before she gently knocked on the door. There was no response, so she waited a few more seconds before knocking again, the second knock resulted in a shout.

“Go Away!”

“Caroline, it’s Andrea, I’d like to talk with you. Please open the door.” 

“Go Away!” sounded again followed by the dull thud of something hitting the door.

“I can’t do that Caroline. I know you’re upset but this isn’t the way to deal with it.” Andy placed her hand on the door expecting to feel another vibration but the wood didn’t move.

“Listen, I’ve got a key and I could come in if I want to, but I won’t do that, I’ll talk to you through the door, but I think this would work better if you let me in.” She pulled back from the door and waited, and waited another minute or two before she heard the key turn in the lock and saw the door open just a crack but there was no sign of the red-head and the door didn’t open any further.

Andy gingerly pushed the door open, bracing herself for any missiles that might come her way. Easing the door fully open she saw Caroline curled up at the head of her bed hugging a large stuffed dog to her chest and staring out the window. She closed the door behind her and moved closer to the bed, spotting an armchair she sat down and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. Looking at the girl with her stuffed toy she was reminded that modern sensibilities aside Caroline was still very  much a child.  With that in mind she decided as the adult she needed to start the conversation, and she had a pretty good idea of how to do it.

“Listen I know this is a really rotten situation, and you’re upset by it, and you have every reason and right to be upset. Believe me I do kind of understand how you’re feeling.”

Caroline frowned at this statement and grumbled out a disbelieving rejoinder. “How would you know?”

Andy hid her tiny smile at the predictable response and decided to put her money where her mouth was.

“I grew up in a small town outside of Cincinnati, it wasn’t quite small enough to say that everyone knew everyone else, but it wasn’t too far from that size. When I was 14 it became common knowledge that my dad was having an affair with one of the teachers at the high school. Everyone knew, all my school friends and my teachers, everyone in the neighbourhood, I couldn’t get away from it, especially at home. I hated it, and I was really mad at my dad for doing that to me and my brother and especially to my mom. So yeah I do kinda know what it’s like.”

Caroline looked thoughtful but wasn’t willing to give up her anger just yet.

“Yeah, but did your dad end up with his picture in all the papers and were they pictures of him having sex? Did reporters hang around and try to ask you questions on your way to school? Did your family end up all over the internet?”

Andy could have said yes about the pictures in the paper, but she knew her local town paper wasn’t in the same league with Page 6 or the hounding the girls were likely going to have to deal with, so thought she’d best move on.

“Look I know that this whole thing totally sucks, but your mom is NOT the bad guy here, Stephen’s the one who is in the wrong. Your mom was being a perfectly normal grown up person and Stephen is the one who betrayed her and broke the law. You need to remember that. Your mom’s just a person like everyone else.” She paused at the look of disbelief on Caroline’s face. “Well okay, in a lot of important ways she’s not just like everyone else, she’s a million times neater and cooler than any one person should be, but she’s still a human being and she makes mistakes.”

Caroline was quiet as she thought about what Andy had said. When she remembered the look on her mom’s face as she yelled at her, she started to feel terrible and tiny tears began to escape even as she tried to hold them back. Seeing this, Andy moved over to the bed and offered the girl a comforting hug, which Caroline hesitantly accepted.

“Listen Caroline, I know it hurts when other people think they have a right to intrude on your life like that, but in the end they’re only strangers, they don’t matter, only the people who love you really matter.” At that statement Caroline’s tears burst forth in earnest.

“I…I didn’t mean..mean it! I love mom! I don’t hate her. I hate Stephen!”

“I know you do honey and so does your mom, but what you said really hurt her, because, you know,  she loves you too, more than anything in the world.” Caroline nodded into Andy’s shoulder and continued to sniffle for a while longer and Andy just let her get it out of her system. About ten minutes later she nudged Caroline’s head up to look at her face to face.

“Tell you what, why don’t you go and wash your face and tidy up a bit and I’ll go and send your mom up so you two can talk about all this. What do you say?”

Caroline shrank back a little and asked in a small voice, “Do you think mom is mad at me now?”

Ruffling the girl’s bangs Andy reassured her that Miranda wouldn’t be mad at her, just hurt and concerned about Caroline’s well-being.

 “And listen, you’re not to feel guilty about what happened, you were upset and had every right to be upset at the situation. You just need to remember not to take your anger out on the people who love you, save it for the people who deserve it, and even then don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your anger control you. If you can control your anger, and let it out safely in a different way if it gets too much to control then you’ll do less damage to you and to others and feel a lot better as well.”

Sliding off the bed Andy stood and patted the girl’s shoulder.

“When you and your mom finish your talk, we brought fresh made croissants and jam with us, don’t let her forget about them.”  With that she quickly left the room intent on putting Miranda out of her discomfort as soon as possible,

Andy returned to the kitchen and took Miranda aside into the hall to let her know what had happened upstairs. Giving the older woman’s hand a squeeze she encouraged her to have faith in her daughter’s love and give Caroline a chance to apologise. Miranda moved forward and kissed Andy’s cheek as she murmured her thanks for Andy’s help.

“Always.” Was her reply as she watched Miranda start up the stairs.

Walking back into the kitchen she sat tiredly in the chair opposite Cassidy. Dealing with all these emotions, Miranda’s the twins’ and her own was starting to tire her out. Elizabeth said not a word but put another cup of coffee on the table in front of her and then went back to her work in the utility room. Andy took a sip and sighed appreciatively as the hot liquid started to revive her spirits as soon as it made its’ way onto her tongue.

Cassidy watched her mother’s assistant drink her coffee, mulling over the obvious signs of affection she’d witnessed before the brunette had gone upstairs. She’d never seen her mother be that physically open to anyone who wasn’t a member of their family, herself and her sister, her father, her grandma certainly, and… the thought struck her that she’d never seen her mother that relaxed with Stephen.

“Why are you here Andy?” The question was said quietly, with no hint of accusation but with a genuine desire for understanding and Andy answered that genuine request.

“Because your mom needed me here.” She smiled at the girl.

“But why? This isn’t anything to do with work? Why did she bring you to talk to us? And why did she let you hug us and talk to Caro?”

Andy wasn’t sure how Miranda wanted to handle the whole issue of ‘them’ but knew it wasn’t her place to say anything about it yet, so she chose a tack that held equal validity.

“I’m here because I’m your mom’s friend. And everyone needs a friend when hard things like this happen.”  She hoped that would be enough of an answer for the minute, because she really didn’t know what else to say.

Cassidy thought about this for a minute or two. She’d always liked Andy, even that time they’d pranked her with the book, she and Caro had only been trying to stop another of her mom’s fights with Stephen. A surprised little grin popped onto her face when she continued the thought of how well that had worked out in the end. Both twins knew Andy had gotten the Harry Potter book for them, but Cassidy also knew why she’d had to do it. She’d overheard her mom on the phone with Uncle Nigel talking about how she’d set Andy the task as a punishment for going upstairs. Smiling a little wider she commented.

“I’m glad your mom’s friend then Andy.”  Andy smiled back at her.

“Me too, Cassidy. Me too.”

They both looked to the doorway as Miranda and Caroline made their way into the kitchen, both looking much better and Caroline holding tightly onto her mother’s hand. Andy smiled at the sight and Miranda nodded her head.

“I baked a treat for you Bobbseys, could you go and get the basket on the back seat of the car please. Be careful to keep it upright so the preserves don’t spill. And make sure you ask your grandmother to come and share the treats.” The last words of her instructions were uttered to the air as the twins were already in their boots and out the back door by the time she finished. That said, they were back in the kitchen with the basket almost before she could have taken breath to say anything further, with Elizabeth following in their wake.

The next few hours were spent eating the baked goodies, drinking more coffee, milk in the case of the twins, and planning strategies to deal with the possible intrusion of the press should they try to contact the girls or Elizabeth in East Haven. Interspersed with the more serious topics, all of the Priestly women and Elizabeth also got to know Andy a little bit better as questions were asked and some details volunteered. All in all it turned out to be a reasonably pleasant afternoon.

As it neared five o’clock Miranda declared they would have to leave if they wanted to make it back to the city at a decent hour. Any other time she would have insisted on leaving an hour or even two hours earlier in order to avoid the end of weekend traffic headed back to NYC, but today she wanted to spend as much time with her girls as she could manage.

Elizabeth bade them farewell on the same front steps she’d greeted them from earlier in the day and the twins accompanied them out to the car itself. To Miranda’s pleased surprise the girl’s played round robin with hugs for both her and Andy, each of the twins taking a moment to exchange a few short words with Andy before they stepped back onto the lawn and waved the women off into the westering sun. As they drove toward the highway, Miranda asked Andy what the girls had said to her while they were saying goodbye.

“Well Cassidy said she was glad I was your friend and asked me to look after you for her and I told her I would do my best and then some.” Grinning wider she continued. “And Caroline asked me if I hated Stephen as much as she does.”

Miranda glanced at her passenger and raised an eyebrow in a silent request for her response.

“I just said, ‘Totally!’” Andy grinned beatifically at the small smirk Miranda gave to that response.

A little over three and a half hours later they were back at the townhouse where Miranda started going over the Book, while Andy prepared them a light meal which they shared at the breakfast bar. When they were finished Miranda returned to her study and Andy tidied up in the kitchen before joining her there with her laptop so she could start work on her article. They worked in companionable silence for an hour or so before they both began yawning and decided to call it a night.

This time there was no false attempt to bow to propriety and Andy arrived in Miranda’s bedroom showered and in her nightclothes just as Miranda emerged from her en suite. Getting into the bed they quickly settled into their positions of the previous night, Andy spooning Miranda from behind and holding her loosely across her stomach. Mumbling sleepy goodnights and a few endearments, they were both asleep before the digital clock morphed to the next numbered minute.

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Andy walked briskly into the Editor’s office and set the coffee cup down in its’ usual place, not batting an eye at the almost sub-vocal _‘Thank you’_ from Miranda. It was 8:30am and they had followed the same pattern as Saturday with Roy dropping Andy off at the Starbucks en route to Elias Clarke. As far as they could tell no one knew they’d been together for the entire weekend.

Emily was already at her desk, fielding calls generated by Miranda’s schedule changes Andy had made on Friday. When Andy settled at her desk she couldn’t help asking how Emily’s weekend had been, she always did this on Monday mornings and she didn’t see any reason she should stop now. It wasn’t like Emily ever answered the question and she’d certainly never returned the enquiry so all in all it was a safe bet for starting the day in silent work.

Miranda’s schedule had been re-arranged so that all out of office meetings had been cancelled or postponed to a different time to be specified at a later date. In order to stay near her phone, the two in house meetings had been moved to her office so she would be available to speak in complete privacy whenever the expected call from SVU should occur. Fortunately there were only two of these meetings, the first with Mr Edwards from Accounting and the second with Nigel.

Mr Edwards had been and gone by 10:15am and Nigel’s meeting was just winding down when Miranda’s blackberry chimed at 11:30pm. She noted the caller i.d. as she answered it, speaking before the caller could possibly have begun their own greeting.

“Hello, could you possibly give me just one minute to clear my office.” Without pausing for a reply she looked over at Nigel.

“We’re done for the moment Nigel, I may see you later in the day, but it might not be possible. Send Andrea in and tell her to shut the door before she sits down.” Nigel gave her a sympathetic look before going about his assigned task. When he got to the open doorway he gave a squeak when he nearly ran into Andy, who was already heading in his direction, note book and her own phone in hand.  They exchanged knowing glances as they passed each other and Nigel paused at Emily’s desk when he heard the snick of the office door shut behind him.

“I think that was the police Emily, I imagine they’ve picked Stephen up and are giving Miranda the news. Gird your loins love, and get that telephone ear ready, because the calls are going to start coming thick and fast as soon as the news breaks. If you need me, I’ll be in my office for the next hour and then in the Closet for the rest of the afternoon.”  He smiled grimly at his colleague, the little spat of the previous Friday forgotten in their mutual concern for Miranda. Emily sniffed in distain as she muttered something about press vultures and the good use she could put an AK47 too, given half a chance. She still loathed Andrea, but she would protect Miranda and Runway with her dying breath. Nigel chuckled and went on his way.

Andy quickly made her way to the chair opposite Miranda and sat down just as the older woman spoke into her phone once more.

“Thank you for your patience Detective Munch, I’m just going to put you on speaker phone so Andrea can hear what you’re saying and I don’t have to relay information.” She pressed the correct button and set the phone on her desk between her and the brunette. “You can go ahead now Detective.”

Twenty minutes later Andy and Miranda sat looking at each other across the glass topped desk, mirrored looks of astonishment on their faces. They were also both feeling decidedly queasy as they tried to process the information the helpful SVU detective had provided them in his call.

The bare facts had been expected; the police had arrived at Stephen’s home in the early hours with their warrant to search for the camera and any other related recording equipment, digital or otherwise, ADA Cabot had been very thorough in her work it would seem, they’d found the hidden camera and other equipment and then as promised, they had arrested Stephen on a number of counts, including blackmail and the illegal production of pornographic material.

What had the two women so stunned was the subsequent description by Detective Munch of the discovery of a collection of SD cards and video tapes going back to the mid 90’s of as many as 30 other women, each SD or video carefully titled with their names. Although Munch wasn’t able to tell them any of the names at this point, he did say that Miranda’s was not the only famous or important woman in the collection. 

There was no doubt that further criminal charges were in Stephen’s future, including the one that had Andy doing an internal jig of joy and wanting to personally thank the whole of the NYPD for, Stephen had resisted arrest. Unsurprisingly to Miranda at least, he’d still been drunk from his end of business bender in L.A. and he’d thrown an ashtray at one officer and punched another in the face knocking out two teeth. To Andy’s further glee, Munch had mentioned that strenuous efforts had been required to subdue Stephen at this point, resulting in black eyes and cracked ribs. Andy had only just been able to restrain herself from crowing with delight at this detail, as far as she was concerned the rat bastard had gotten off lightly. Munch had ended by saying that ADA Cabot would be in touch after Stephen was arraigned, he pointed out that judges frowned on assaults on officers and it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be granted bail.

It was Andy who collected herself first and immediately started dialling Leslie’s number. As it started to ring she handed the phone over to Miranda.  The new information Munch had given them needed to be factored in to how Leslie would deal with the Press. As Miranda related the information to her publicist Andy tried to imagine what this would mean for Miranda. On the one hand if there were other famous names involved it should divide and lessen the press attention on Miranda, however, if it was a big scandal it could provide so much more fuel for the paparazzi that the hounding would continue much longer than it might have if it was only Miranda involved.  Likewise, with it being Miranda who was in the middle of divorcing Stephen, it was likely the press would still concentrate on her over the others anyway. She supposed they couldn’t really know what would happen until they knew who else was involved.

Miranda hung up, sliding the phone across the desk to Andy.

“She says there are too many variables with the new information to make any definitive plans. She’ll start to work up potential action plans for different eventualities but until then Leslie’s main advice remains the same. No comment and please allow the NYPD to do their job.” Miranda’s brow furrowed as she relayed the advice and Andy leant forward and reached for her hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“Well then, looks like we’re all on yellow alert for now, so let’s get back to work before it upgrades to red alert. Yes?” She smiled and cocked her head as she’d often seen the older woman do when she was posing a question.  Andy knew that Miranda would want to get as much work done as possible before they were all distracted by being called to battle stations. Miranda smiled and nodded her agreement before giving a wicked little smile.

“Coffee.”  She grinned outright and straightened her back and moved her shoulders as she had on Saturday, evoking those dragon wings unfurling. “That’s all.”

Andy did an excellent job of stifling her giggles but couldn’t resist a cheeky rejoinder as she made her way to the door. “Certainly my Dragon. Minion Andy on her way for centre of the sun caffeine.” She winked at her boss and opened the door leaving it in its’ usual open position before grabbing her purse and heading for the elevator.

Soon after this Miranda received a call from Alex Cabot to inform her that Stephen had been arraigned and despite his lawyers trying to hold him back, had acted like a belligerent idiot swearing and insulting the judge. Understandably after this he’d been refused bail and was now on his way to Rykers, with contempt charges added to his bill of sale. Once again, Andy was hard pressed not to do a victory dance.

The first phone call didn’t come through until nearly 4:00pm. It was a reporter from the Post and he asked only one question. _‘Was Ms Priestly aware that her estranged husband had been arrested that morning on multiple charges including assaulting a police officer?’_ Fortunately it was Andy who fielded this enquiry and modified the no comment to include a thank you for the information which she would take note of and pass on to Ms Priestly when she was available.  

 This seemed to bring them another hour of peace before the onslaught truly began. It was clear from the new questions that Stephen’s arraignment was now general knowledge, as were the charges tabled so far. These included, resisting arrest, assaulting a police officer, two counts of blackmail, and to their surprise one reporter informed them there was also one count of statutory rape.

When Miranda heard about the rape charge she was appalled and on the phone to Alex Cabot immediately, unfortunately the ADA was unavailable to take her call. Andy was with her at the time and had started dialling the SVU unit at the same time that Miranda was dialling Alex. As Miranda slammed her phone down on the poor ADA’s voice message, Andy was being put through to Detective Tutuola.

“Detective Tutuola this Andy Sachs, Miranda Priestley’s Assistant. We met on Saturday morning. Detective, Miranda has just discovered via the press that Mr Tomlinson has also been charged with statutory rape, and we can’t get through to ADA Cabot for an explanation. As you can imagine this is very shocking news for Miranda, is there any further information you’re at liberty to share with us? How did this charge happen? Did he do something in L.A.?” She ground to a halt as the detective volunteered what information he could without providing specific names or dates.  Andy thanked him for his help and ended the call before focusing on Miranda.

“Umm, apparently Stephen, the arrogant asshole, thought he’d never be caught and he kept a diary of his conquests and video victims. It turned out that one of the entries refers to the date of one of the SD cards from four years ago. They’ve identified the girl and at the time of the video she was only 15 years old. I’m not sure about why, but her parents are still her legal guardians even though she’s now 19, they’ve insisted he be charged.” Andy had been fidgeting with her phone while she spoke to Miranda, who had been pacing the floor in front of the couch on the far side of the office. She looked up and saw Miranda drop onto the couch and place her head in her hands shaking it side to side even as she cradled her face in her palms. Andy went over and sat down beside the older woman wrapping an arm across her huddled shoulders.

Miranda scrubbed her hands over her face and then dropped them to her knees as she leant back into the couch, taking Andy back with her because she refused to release her embrace. Miranda rested her head on the back of the couch but rolled it to the side so she could look Andy in the eye. Her eyes, so blue, were bleeding regret and sorrow.

“What kind of monster did I let into my life?” She whispered. “Into my children’s lives’?” The white haired beauty gazed worriedly into Andy’s warm brown eyes. Andy’s concern seemed to reach out to her, soothing her anxiety and relaxing her despite her continued feeling of guilt.

Andy reached over and brushed Miranda’s unruly lock off her forehead and looked at her seriously before she shared something her grandmother, a survivor of the Warsaw Ghetto, had said to her many times as she was growing up.

“The worst monsters aren’t ravening beasts Miranda, they look just the same as we do, and we only discover their true nature when they let that veneer slip and we see them for what they are, by their actions. That’s why they’re the scariest.” She touched Miranda’s chin, making sure she didn’t look away.

“Stephen showed you what you wanted to see and used that to trick you into allowing him into your life.” Something inside Andy would not let her say, ‘into Miranda’s heart’, that was not something about which she wanted to think.

 “And it was a skill he was very practiced at apparently, you were not the only one he fooled Miranda.” She expected the tiny disapproving scowl that answered her last statement. “Miranda, love, you are the most amazing and incredible person I’ve ever met and you are head and shoulders above the rest of us in too many ways to truly count.” She reached over and gently tapped the little bump on Miranda’s perfectly imperfect nose. “But you are as human as the rest of us mere mortals, with the same need for love and companionship, and we do sometimes over-ride our good sense when it comes to those commodities, especially if we mix them up with external issues like image and public expectations.” She leaned over and gently kissed those soft lips. “Give yourself a break Miranda. Stephen and Stephen alone is the one responsible for this situation, not you.”

Miranda sighed, she knew Andy was right and she knew she should take the advice, but… and just as she was going to make the choice to wallow a little more in self recriminations she remembered her own grandmotherly advice, the same advice she’d vowed to follow only three days before. _‘Buck up and stop acting like a martyr Miranda.’_ Such was the little internal pep talk that followed Andy’s more loving version. Looking deeply into the younger woman’s eyes she gave her a sheepish smile to accompany her slight nod of acquiescence.

Andy smiled and moved in for another kiss and then another, she was going to pull back after that but Miranda moved her hand to the base of Andy’s neck and firmly held her in place as they both continued to feast on each other’s soft and pliant lips. A few minutes later they broke apart for some well-earned and definitely needed air.

Andy grinned. “You’re very good at that you know.”

Miranda answered with a grin of her own. “Well then I was correct in Paris when I said I could see a lot of myself in you.”

Andy’s eyes sparkled with happiness the mini make-out session had really gotten her heart rate up and her libido overrode her brain as she responded. “Well I can’t wait till there’s a lot more of you in me.” Her initial rather sexily wicked grin morphed into a beet red flush from forehead to chest when Miranda purred in response. “Neither can I darling. Neither can I.” At which point she swooped down and nearly kissed Andy senseless.

By 7:00pm, the phones were largely being diverted to the Elias Clark PR department who forwarded most of them to Miranda’s personal PR company to deal with the requests for information. Emily was multi-tasking like a Goddess as she covered the phones on her own when Andy was in Miranda’s office. It was only by swigging the odd mouthful of her new pink addiction that she was able to deal with the spikes of jealous rage that occurred every time Miranda called Andy into her office and the door, so rarely ever closed before, would click shut on the brunette.

Andy came out of the office on her way to get them something to eat. They’d decided to wait in the office for the Book to be delivered and then Miranda would be dropped off at the Townhouse before Roy picked up Cara and dropped both her and Andy at their respective apartments. So they needed to eat here at the office.

Andy wasn’t happy about being away from Miranda, but realised it was probably for the best, after Miranda’s housekeeper had called and confirmed that a gaggle of paparazzi were camped out on the front sidewalk. Cara had been fielding calls all afternoon as well and had offered to stay at the house until Miranda returned. No sense tempting the seedier members of the Fourth Estate with an empty house that could perhaps be snuck into somehow. Andy had been touched and pleased when Miranda had insisted that Cara take the offer of the ride home, it would keep her from being mobbed by the reporters as she tried to hail a cab or walk to the subway.

Andy ducked down to grab her purse from her desk drawer and stopped by Emily’s desk to let her know where she was going. Knowing the girl hadn’t had a lunch break at all she decided to offer to pick her something up as well.

“Would you like me to pick up one of those Greenleaf salads from Bistro Brazil Em? They’re really good and only 175 calories even with the dressing…which I’ll get on the side in case you don’t want even that, then it’s like only 130 calories.” She waited for a reply but Emily kept tapping away at her computer as she studiously ignored Andy. Sighing Andy made her way to the elevator. She’d get the salad, just in case, but she certainly didn’t expect any appreciation of her thoughtfulness.

The door to the elevator opened and Andy stepped out heading for the main entrance. She stumbled as she looked up to be met by what looked like a sea of bodies on the outside of the glass walls. Knowing Roy was waiting at the kerbside somewhere beyond that milling mob she paused at the security desk. To her relief there were three guards on duty, one of which was her friend Little John. Like the Robin Hood character the nickname was a deliberate misnomer, John Blake was close to seven feet tall and built along the same lines as Michael Clark Duncan from the Green Mile.

The friendly Assistant didn’t even have to ask as John got up and offered to escort her to the car. With his imposing bulk working like a battering ram, Andy kept her head down, her mouth closed and made it to the car in less than a minute. She told Little John she’d text the security desk when she was about to pull up on her return and let him know that Miranda was intending to leave by about 10:00pm and they’d probably need all three of them to get her to the car as quickly as possible.

They were fortunate enough that none of the reporters there at the moment appeared to know exactly who Andy was or they might have ended up with someone tailing them to see where she went. As it was they managed to get to bistro Brazil and back in less than 30 minutes. The return walk into Elias Clarke was just as smooth, Little John encouraging the pressing Press to keep their distance.  Andy thanked him once more and told him she’d call down to let them know when Miranda was on her way.

Back on the 18th floor Andy plated Miranda’s dinner and grabbed a cold bottle of Pellegrino before taking it into her office. She noted that the book had arrived and she left Miranda to start going over it as she ate. That Miranda often reviewed the book while she ate a late snack/supper was a secret that Andy had known for a while now, thanks to the odd crumb or little bit of lettuce falling from its’ stiff pages when Miranda handed it off in the mornings. Loyal girl that she was, she’d never said a word to anyone.

Making her way back to her own desk she set her gourmet brie and grape chutney on rosemary focaccia bread sandwich down on her desk with her own bottle of Pellegrino and then placed the Greenleaf salad, dressing and another bottle of water on Emily’s desk. The red-head looked at her scathingly and sniffed.

“Come on Em, you must be starving. Even more than usual, I know you haven’t eaten at all today. It’s really not good for you, you know. You can afford 175 calories in one day for God’s sake.”  Her only reply was Emily taking two seconds to turn her head and stick her tongue out at her tormentor.

Andy gasped at the sight and stepped back a little.

“Emily what’s wrong with your tongue!! It looks like a piece of cooked liver!” Andy exclaimed as she stepped forward again, naturally concerned about Emily’s health.

“Don’t be an ass, Andy, what are you three years old? Next you’ll be telling me I’ve got the cooties or something.” She sniffed her dismissal and answered the phone as it rang.

Andy went to her purse and pulled out her little round compact. When Emily had hung up, Andy tried again and wouldn’t take no for answer. In exasperation Emily snatched the compact, opened it and promptly stuck her tongue out at herself. Just as Andy had said her tongue was a dark grey, almost black, and did indeed look like a cold wet piece of overcooked liver. The British woman squeaked her dismay before plopping down in her chair as she stuck her tongue out and looked at it from every angle she could manage; there wasn’t a pink spot in sight. It looked quite incongruous beside her still healthily pink gums.

“Em, I think you need to see a doctor. Tomorrow as soon as you can get an appointment. I’ll cover things here.” Emily just blinked at Andy who hovered over her desk in concern.

Almost without thinking she reached into her bag and pulled out her travel size bottle of Pepto Bismol, undoing the cap and beginning to swig it straight from the neck. She let out another indignant squeak of surprise when Andy grabbed the bottle out of her hand before she’d managed to pour any into her mouth.

“Give me back my medicine you cow!” She made a grab for the bottle but Andy kept it out of her reach.

“Em, how much of this stuff have you been drinking?” the brunette demanded to know.

“None of your ruddy business. Now will you give it back, it’s bad enough my tongue looks like it’s rotting in my mouth, but now you want me to throw up from the nervous nausea that has caused as well! Give me that bottle!”  The final demand was made in a near screech that brought Miranda to her door to see what on earth was going on in the outer office.

Andy was firm and repeated her demand to know how much the Brit had drunk of the stuff since she’d brought that large bottle to her on Friday. Her jaw dropped when Emily finally mumbled the answer.

“You’ve gone through FIVE bottles since Friday!! Including that 32oz one I got for you!” Andy raised her own voice in amazed disbelief before they were interrupted by their boss.

“What is the cause of all this screeching? Did someone see a cockroach? A rat? A swarm of spiders at the very least?” Miranda was in full dragon mode, her nerves having been increasingly on edge as she neared the first night since this nightmare began that she wouldn’t have Andy with her for support.

Taking note of Miranda’s tone and stance, Andy reacted accordingly and kept her explanation as business like as possible. She was going to need to get creative with the truth to spare poor Emily at least some embarrassment in front of Miranda.

“Emily needed some Pepto Bismol on Friday for a stomach upset and I got her the only bottle the drugstore had. But it seems she’s drunk far too much of it over the weekend and it’s had a nasty side effect she wasn’t expecting.” Emily glared at Andy. How did the ruddy rotund one know her tongue’s colour had anything to do with the pink liquid she’d been imbibing like it was a calorie free strawberry milkshake?

Miranda looked sceptically at her second Assistant as she intuited the fact that Andy was editing several details of the story she was telling. Content that she would be able to get those details from the young woman should she feel they were needed, she allowed this to pass for now and moved on to the matter immediately at hand.

“What side effect?”

The two young women looked at each other; neither of them willing to be the one to tell Miranda. The editor decided it was down to her first Assistant to provide the answer.

“What side affect Emily?”

The Brit blushed and dropped her gaze before she answered Miranda’s question.

“Like cooked liver?” Miranda’s nose wrinkled in distaste, but moved on to her next question, which was definitely directed toward Andy.

“How do you know this unfortunate discolouration has anything to do with Emily’s medicine Andrea?” She quirked her brow as she waited for a response.

In her distress and confusion Emily was unable to restrain herself from saying, “Yeah, you sodding know-all, how do you know it has anything to do with that?” 

Miranda made certain allowances for Emily’s agitated state but still intoned a warning, “Emily!” before insisting once again that Andy share her knowledge.

“My granddad had big trouble with indigestion a few years ago and he started drinking Pepto after almost every meal to try and combat it. He was probably drinking about 4-6 ounces a day for about two weeks before he happened to lick his lips in front of the mirror after he’d been shaving, and he noticed his tongue had gone grey and clammy like a piece of cooked liver. He went to the doctor and when the Doc found out how much of this stuff,” she shook the small bottle for emphasis, “he’d been drinking he knew for certain it was a side effect of regularly drinking too much Pepto over a long period of time.” Andy couldn’t help sliding Miranda a sly look as she added an extra, equally truthful nugget of information.

“Apparently it also gave Pop a monster case of constipation.” She nearly lost it when an obvious look of recognition for the symptom crossed Emily’s face. Miranda also had to clamp down on her urge to laugh as she put in her final words on the subject.

“Emily, throw out any remaining bottles you have here or at your apartment and don’t overdo any medication in the future.” The red-head’s cheeks continued to burn a shiny apple-red as she nodded her agreement. Miranda softened her voice and her stance as she added.

“And Emily, thank you for your excellent work today, you handled the press very efficiently and I appreciate it. Go home, get some rest. Tomorrow is probably going to make today seem like a spring weekend in the Hamptons.” She nodded her dismissal and returned to her office leaving a thoroughly confused but enormously happy Emily in her wake.

Getting herself together the Brit grudgingly thanked Andy for her telling her about the side effects. If Miranda could bring herself to thank her assistant for doing her job, then she, Emily could follow her idol’s example and thank Andy for her help. The fact that somewhere in the back of her hostile little mind, she had a tiny idea that Andy had known all along that she would over use the pink concoction and end up with a liver-tongue, was just something she would have to work through at a later date. For now she gathered her coat and bag and left the office calling Serena as she went and crying off joining her for a night-cap. She didn’t want to see the Brazilian in a personal setting until her tongue was back to its’ normal setting.

This thought came to her just as the elevator doors had closed and she cursed the fact she’d have to wait till the next day to ask Andy how long it had taken her grandfather’s tongue to return to normal.  When she exited on the ground floor, her mind took the unsettling leap toward the thought that, maybe, Andy’s grandfather’s tongue had stayed grey forever. She was working herself into a snit as she heard her phone alert her to a text message.

Glancing at the screen she read, ‘Em. Pop’s tongue was grey for about three weeks before it went back to normal. He could also still have Pepto, but in normal doses at infrequent intervals. G’night. A.  Sometimes that girl frightened Emily, she really did.

At 10:00pm Andy texted the security team and she and Miranda made their way to the elevators as they headed home for the day. Andy restrained herself from taking hold of Miranda’s hand because of the security cameras, but it was a close run thing as she could feel the tension rising in the body standing next to her the closer they got to the ground floor.

“I really hate that I won’t be with you tonight Miranda. I mean I really hate it!” As she spoke she balled her hands into a fist, white knuckled with frustration.

Oddly the rising tension in her companion helped to ease Miranda’s pressured feelings. The oh so obvious concern and desire to protect her that Andy was radiating was like a snuggly warm blanket of love and Miranda mentally wrapped it around her to use as armour against the lonely night ahead.

“I know you do Andrea, as do I. Believe me love I wish it could be different, but the paparazzi would definitely take note if you arrived and didn’t leave.” Andy sighed and nodded her grudging agreement just as the doors opened on the lobby and they stepped out. They were quickly joined by the three security guards Andy had seen earlier, including Little John. They’d also drafted in two extra guards from elsewhere in the building to monitor the situation from the security desk, just in case things went haywire.

The difference between this trip and Andy’s earlier foray was like night and day, in fact the light from the flash bulbs as the cameras turned on them, temporarily turned the night into day and they had to pause for a few seconds as they experienced temporary blindness. The guards formed a ring around the two women and moved them steadily toward the car where Andy entered first and nearly jumped to the far seat to allow Miranda to get in as quickly as possible. When Little John closed the door, he and his colleagues formed a cordon preventing the vultures from sticking their cameras right up to the window as Roy pulled out into traffic.

In the back seat Miranda couldn’t help the smirk as Andy and Roy said almost simultaneously, “Vultures!” and she smiled outright when she heard Roy add, “Should have run a few of them down when I had the chance.”

The trip to the townhouse was far too brief for Andy’s liking and when they arrived the size of the Press pack was almost as big as that outside Elias Clarke. She was relieved to see that Cara was on the top step so their attention wasn’t on the street and they were able to pull to a full stop before they were noticed. This allowed Roy the seconds he needed to hop out and shield Miranda’s exit from the car and he moved to press a path through the crowd. On impulse Andy got out too and protected Miranda from the rear until she was heading up the steps and Cara was heading down.

One of the pushier reporters made as if to mount the front steps and Andy literally got nose to nose with him and growled the words ‘trespass’ and ‘law suit’ to great effect. The man took a step back just as Miranda closed the door above them. With that the whole pack started to yell questions at Andy and Cara as they and Roy fought their way back to the town car. Safely back in the car, all three heaved a collective sigh of relief.

“God! I can’t believe I wanted to be a member of the press!” Andy exclaimed in disgust, not even noticing the use of the past tense as she made her statement. It would be a few days before that registered with her and she had the time to have a long hard think about what it meant.

Roy dropped Andy off first as Cara lived nearer to his own apartment. Andy had mentioned she needed to pick a few things up before she went home and had asked him to drop her at the late night market at the end of her block. He’d insisted on waiting for to get her shopping and then drove her directly to her address. He waited by the kerb till he saw Andy was inside the building and the door had shut securely behind her before he drove away.

Andy firmly shut her door before she plopped the small bag of groceries on the kitchen table and tossed her handbag over the chair back. Fluffing her bangs with puff of breath she made her way through to the bedroom and then the bathroom. She’d only been gone three days and the apartment seemed extremely dingy and definitely in need of some cleaning. Going back into the kitchen, she secured the extra locks on her door and put the groceries away, noting at the same time that due to their lack of use the kitchen and the living room appeared to be the tidiest rooms in her domain.

She went and changed into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before she decided to attack the bathroom giving it a good scrubbing, before changing the bed linens and tidying all her laundry into the hamper to be dealt with, hopefully, on the following weekend.  Satisfied with her work and its’ semi success in keeping her mind off Miranda, she decided that maybe a glass of wine might help her relax before she tried to get some sleep.  She curled up on the end of the couch with her phone and her glass and switched on the small television. She steered clear of any news channels and settled on one that was showing Bringing up Baby, she’d adored Katherine Hepburn since she was about nine years old when she’d seen On Golden Pond. She chuckled out loud as she realised her penchant for strong, forthright older women, went back at lot farther than she thought.

About fifteen minutes into the film her phone rang with the tone that only last week would have made her cringe, wondering what new impossible deed her boss would be demanding, but which now just sent tingles of excitement rather than dread down her spine.

“Hello Miranda. How are you doing?” She kept her tone warm and open, hoping the older woman would stay on the line for a little bit.

“I wish you were here. I’m sitting in my bedside chair with a glass of wine, and those vultures still camped outside and all I can think about is that I won’t have you in my bed tonight so how on earth am I going to be able sleep? Can you tell me Andrea? How have I come to be so used to your presence in a mere three nights? Can you?” The semi angry tone in Miranda’s voice didn’t faze Andy at all; she knew it stemmed from her dislike of showing her vulnerability. They’d made titanic strides in breaking down all kinds of barriers between each other over the weekend, but the bottom line was, they were still the same people, and Andy understood that fact.

“I can’t explain it Miranda, but I can promise you it’s the same for me, I was just thinking the exact same thing and sipping on a glass of wine too.” She laughed at their mirrored activity. “You didn’t happen to scrub your bathroom and change the sheets too did you?”  She smiled at the amused snort that greeted that question. She giggled herself, but not at the silliness of her question, more at the weird way that Miranda could make even a snort sound graceful.  Moving her legs to get comfortable, her foot knocked her computer bag which she’d tossed on the end of the couch and an idea instantly formed in her mind.

“Miranda do you have Skype on your home laptop?” She asked hopefully.

“Certainly, I use it for global business calls when the time difference is a factor. Why do you want to know?” Andy picked her computer up and moved into her bedroom, shutting off the living room lights as she went.

“Just give me a sec…” She set the laptop down on her one nightstand and the glass of wine on the other one before she answered Miranda’s question.

“Okay, look I’ve just had this idea. If we both set up our laptops on our nightstands and start a video call we could, well kind of be together virtually, ya know.” She faltered a little as Miranda didn’t respond at first.

“You want to watch me sleep via Skype?” Miranda’s voice held a note that Andy couldn’t quite identify, it held notes of confusion but she wasn’t sure if the rest was incredulity, sarcasm or a small sense of wonder. Her uncertainty got the better of her as she tried to back pedal.

“You’re right it’s dumb idea, I mean it’s not going to help us sleep if we’re lying around and staring at a dark screen trying to make out if the other one’s asleep. I..well… I mean I thought it would make it feel like we were in the same room, like I could hear you breathing and you could… You know what. Just forget I said it…”  She was cut off by Miranda’s voice, soft, gentle and definitely holding a hint of pleased wonder.

“Andrea, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Just let me get my laptop from the study. I’ll call you back on Skype in a few minutes.” With that the line went dead and Andy stared at the phone for a few minutes before scrambling to plug in and set her computer up in the best position. Five minutes later she answered the call and saw Miranda on the screen and she couldn’t help the smile that lit her face when she saw that the white haired woman was wearing the pyjamas that Andy had worn the night before and left on the chair beside her bed this morning.

Miranda noted the smile and a faint tinge of pink dusted her cheek as she ran her hand along the collar of her top. “It smells like you.” She whispered. Andy was thoroughly charmed.

They both made themselves comfortable and turned the lights off before whispering their goodnights. Andy listened to Miranda’s even breathing and before long she fell into a deep sleep, she woke up in the night in need of the bathroom and as she got back into bed she refreshed the screen, allowing Miranda’s little snores to lull her to sleep once more.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Tuesday morning saw the Press onslaught increase as more details began to emerge about the situation, to Andy’s disgusted surprise she found a hack from one of the grocery store rags waiting to ambush her outside her apartment. They received short shrift from the young woman who glared them into submission and out of her way, never doubting that Miranda would have been impressed no end with her success.

When she finally arrived at Elias Clarke carrying a large tray of Starbucks, she drew a sigh of relief as she saw several police officers holding the crowd of reporters back away from the building, corralling them and keeping them from blocking the sidewalk or the entrance. She flashed her work id at the nearest officer and was let through with little fuss before the woman turned her attention back to someone else who tried to push forward saying they worked in the building and had forgotten their id card, the officer skewered the man with her disbelieving glare.

The morning was chaotic to say the least. Every channel was running the story as more details were unearthed about the charges Stephen was now facing. The single night had seen those charges rise to eight more counts of black mail, and one for theft; Andy wondered how that was discovered. The final charge had Andy and Miranda blinking in surprise before they both broke out in huge grins; Stephen had been charged with tax fraud for undeclared income on his ill-gotten gains over the years. Miranda couldn’t help herself and quipped she’d married Al Capone.

Irv had tried to barrel into Miranda’s office while she was on the phone with her lawyer only to be met by the united physical wall of Andy, Emily and Nigel who happened to be dropping off some proofs Miranda had requested. The three glared daggers at the spluttering executive as he demanded to see the _‘White Witch’_ immediately, she was bringing chaos to the building and bad publicity to the company. At the snide insult, Andy moved forward and accentuated her height advantage over the tiny man, her newest pair of Jimmy Choos raising that advantage to almost eight inches.

Bending over and jutting her jaw forward she ground out through gritted teeth.

“Now, Mr. Ravitz, you wouldn’t want a harassment lawsuit to add to Elias Clarke’s publicity problems would you?” She didn’t budge nor did she pull back from his personal space. The man, fool that he was, still appeared intent on pushing forward and raised his arm to brush Andy out of his way, at which point the brunette leant down to the side and whispered something in his ear that caused every drop of blood to drain from his face.

He pulled back from her with a horrified look of fear and loathing. How had the wretched girl found out about his little encounters with one of the frequent UPS delivery men??? They’d been discreet, he knew they had. Only meeting after 11:00pm at the earliest and always making sure his office door was shut and locked. His heart sank when two thoughts added together in his mind; Miranda’s Assistants’ sometimes worked well past midnight and there had been that one time in July last year when the air conditioning wasn’t working in his office and they’d gone to the 22nd floor which was supposed to be empty during refurbishment. Could it have been then that Andy had seen what she claimed to know about? He couldn’t let himself believe that and tried to challenge her.

“You can’t prove that.” He got out in a strangled whisper. 

Andy straightened her back, raised an eyebrow and merely said, “Take the risk Irv, if you really believe that. Still even if, and I do mean _IF_ I can’t prove it, rumours can still mean bad press can’t they, particularly on the home front, yes?” The last of the question was said in a sickly sweet, oh so helpful tone cut through with pure arsenic.

Andy had kept the odious little man’s secret because she didn’t think anyone’s sexuality should be fodder for the gossip rags, even though Irv was married and obviously having his bit on the side as well. She’d reminded herself that she wasn’t privy to whatever private arrangement Irv and his wife might have about such things and had made the decision to say nothing about the scene she’d stumbled upon last July. After Paris she had been sorely tempted, but decided to keep the knowledge for the future, just in case Irv decided to try something like the failed Follet folly again.

Standing over him now she realised she was essentially doing the same thing to Irv that Stephen had tried to do to Miranda, but quite frankly she didn’t care, no one was going to add more stress or problems to Miranda’s plate if she could do something to prevent it. So she held her ground and dared the CEO to call her bluff.

Irv eyed the brunette warily and made the self-preserving decision that discretion was the better part of valour and turned and stomped away toward the elevators without saying another word.

Emily and Nigel crowded round Andy demanding to know what she’d said to Irv but she refused to give any details away, merely saying she’d stumbled on some information by accident and she was just glad it was something that could help Miranda out in this moment of chaos. Nigel tried to pull for more when Emily left to take her lunch break, but Andy stood firm, she wouldn’t reveal her knowledge unless she absolutely had to in order to help Miranda.

At 2:00pm Miranda emerged from her office calling for her coat and bag, she was going to a viewing at Donna Karan at 2:45 and wanted to allow enough extra time to get through the press pack. She’d decided at the end of the previous evening that she was not going to continue to reschedule her life to suit the paparazzi, she had work to do; blackmailing soon to be ex-husbands and their media hoopla would not be allowed to interfere with the needs of Runway. The decision had been cathartic and given her a renewed sense of control over her work life if nothing else.

Andy helped her on with her coat before she grabbed her own jacket, it had been understood the moment she’d informed Andy of her decision that the girl would insist on accompanying her to any outside meetings and that was fine with Miranda. Her love’s comforting presence was the only thing preventing Miranda from heading into another stress induced melt down and she grabbed onto her grandmothers advice with both hands as she took all the support Andy offered.

Andy was pleased that the Karan showing had been particularly good, this seemed to have buoyed Miranda’s spirits considerably. Andy thought it kind of sad that everyone concentrated on and looked for signs of Miranda’s obvious displeasure at these events, but seemed oblivious to her more subtle signs of enjoyment of good design and fashion. Andy sometimes wondered how people thought Miranda could possibly be successful in what she did with some kind of permanent dissatisfaction with the heart of her profession.

They returned to Runway at 4:30pm. Miranda’s good mood from the showing caused her to slip into automatic mode and she exited the car without waiting for the police detail to clear the path. As she stood up and straightened her belt one of the reporters got past the blockade and barrelled over shoving his microphone forward so quickly it knocked Miranda’s sunglasses off and she stepped backward stumbling on the edge of the kerb causing her to lose her balance.

All hell broke loose as she actually fell forward her hands tangled in her coat belt and unable to break her fall she was headed for a very damaging landing when suddenly she was caught in strong arms, half a foot away from the hard concrete and gently pulled upright to her feet. Flashbulbs were going off everywhere and questions were being shouted by dozens of different people trying to capture what happened and get the main protagonists reactions.

Andy had leapt to Miranda’s rescue pushing the intruding idiot into the arms of a waiting police woman, before she shakily made sure Miranda was okay and hadn’t hurt her ankle or anything else. Reassured by Miranda’s insistence she was fine, Andy bent and retrieved the designer sunglasses and put them in Miranda’s hand before she edged the woman over to Little John who had just emerged from the crowd. She encouraged Miranda to go with him and as the two moved off rounded back toward the reporter who was being cautioned by the policewoman. 

Andy didn’t think twice as she stomped over elbowing the uniformed woman out of the way and grabbed the man’s collar pulling him in so that they were nose to nose before growling.

“If you ever come within ten feet of her again I’m gonna shove that microphone so far up your ass you’ll be giving yourself an interview every time you open your mouth!” She shook him again before two more officers came over and separated them. The reporter started spluttering about charging Andy with assault and threats on his life before the officers calmly suggested he might want to rethink that idea or he would be facing aggravated assault charges himself. This effectively shut him up and Andy surreptitiously flipped him the bird before turning and making her way inside.

Moving past the security desk Andy was startled when a soft voice spoke beside her.

“Thank you Andrea. It would appear you really are my Knight in shining armour.” Andy snapped her head around, amazed that Miranda had waited for her before going on up to Runway. She smiled at the woman and shrugged her shoulders a little.

“I guess so.” She smiled shyly before adding quietly in a teasing tone. “I’m just glad this knight got the dragon and not the wimpy princess. Dragons need a helping hand but they rarely need out and out rescuing and at least if they do, they can lend a claw if needed.” The elevator doors closed on the last of her statement just as Miranda allowed a chuckling laugh to escape at Andy’s warped sense of humour. Looking over at her companion she cocked her head in consideration.

“Well you seem to have successfully turned my dragon sobriquet around in a truly positive way. I enjoy that greatly Andrea.” The doors opened on their floor and Miranda moved out of the elevator before quietly adding over her shoulder.

“Could you see what you could do to turn around ‘Cold Bitch’ as well.”

Andy choked with laughter at the request, seeing it as a definite sign of an improved mood and followed Miranda into the outer office area.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No Fault Divorce was not allowed in NY State until 2010. Couples still had to be separated for a minimum of one year before a divorce petition would be granted with some leeway for exceptional circumstances.

The next two days saw the media frenzy increase as the national tabloids got involved; print, television and internet media converged on New York. Wednesday was hell on earth and Miranda had been in a foul temper when she and Andy had come out of a meeting at James Holt’s loft and were physically jostled before Roy could get to them and help them through the crowd. Andy had elbowed and pushed people away from Miranda and on a few occasions judiciously ground her four inch heel into the instep of one or two of the most persistent ones.

When they got back to the office Nigel insisted on everyone watching something he’d taped from the Channel Six news the evening before. As the clip began to play, they saw Emily leaving the Elias Clarke building and being escorted to kerbside, it was obvious the security guard was bored and left her there to fend for herself in hailing a cab. The crowd of reporters converged on her as someone called out she was Miranda’s Assistant. The red head was very nearly knocked over in the stampede of flailing microphones and flashing cameras. As the mob surrounded her she apparently gave up on the idea of the cab and attempted to head toward the subway. The crowd wouldn’t budge and formed a solid wall in her path. It was at this juncture that the Brit spoke up in a cold but steady voice. 

“I have nothing to say to you about any matter pertaining to my employer or any other matter whatsoever. You are impeding me from going about my business so would you move aside and allow me to be on my way.” She held her head high as she tried to take a step in the direction she wanted to go, only to be met with a barrage of flashing bulbs and a cacophony of shouted questions. She said not one more word after that and merely stood with her hands crossed over her chest and tapping her foot. Every so often she would attempt to move forward only to be blocked by the throng.  So she eventually just stood and glared at them.

At this point the clip went to a reporter’s voice over describing how the feisty young woman had continued maintaining her silence and her stance for more than 25 minutes before the reporters finally gave up and allowed her through. Nigel reached over and turned off the clip, giving Emily a pat on the back as he straightened up. Andy and Miranda had a twin set of admiring expressions and Emily nearly fainted when Miranda complimented her on her determination and getting one over on the press pariahs with such particular dignity. She couldn’t help the tiny scowl at Andy’s follow up quip of, ‘Yeah me too Em,’ it was just second nature to her now to be annoyed at the brunette’s compliments. She would, though, treasure the words of praise from Miranda.

From Wednesday afternoon however, the press concentration on Miranda fluctuated as it was revealed that three of Stephen’s other victims included one of the wealthiest leading members of New York Society, the Mayor’s sister, and the now, but not then, wife of a State Senator. That last bit of news had broken just a few hours previously and when Miranda and Andrea left for a lunch meeting with three of Runway’s largest advertising accounts there were only a handful of paparazzi milling around in a desultory manner. When the women were escorted to the town car, most of them didn’t even raise their cameras; the scene had been done to death by this time. Miranda had never uttered word one to the press so the single reporter present didn’t even bother to shout out a question.

Miranda and Andy quickly fell into an evening pattern of waiting for the book and eating whatever dinner Andy went and fetched and then riding to the townhouse together dropping the editor off and picking Cara up as they had done on the Monday night. They would each attend to personal matters for an hour or so before retiring to their beds with their laptops. Whoever was set up on Skype last would call the other and they would spend up to a half hour just talking. By unspoken mutual agreement the current situation was the one thing they did not talk about at these times.

Then they’d both settle under the covers leaving the session open and drift off to the familiar sounds of the other falling asleep. Andy often woke up in the night and would always refresh the screen and check on Miranda before settling back to sleep. She’d never caught Miranda awake and she wondered if the older woman did the same thing if she woke in the night. It never seemed to occur to her to ask Miranda about it when they were together, and she didn’t want Miranda to feel uncomfortable thinking Andy was awake and watching her sleep, that could have overtones of creepy. Still it comforted Andy when she could just make out the rise and fall of Miranda’s chest and the cute little waffling sounds of her soft snores. Those snores had been something she’d treasured since she’d first heard them on the couch last Friday night; they really were too cute for words, and something she would never ever mention to Miranda.

 

On Friday some of the media had returned when it was discovered that Miranda was petitioning the Court to waive the mandatory year’s separation and grant her an immediate divorce. Given the current circumstances, Philip Walker was more than confident the petition would be granted and Miranda could be free of Stephen in this respect in a matter of weeks. The downside of this otherwise excellent news was the media became far more salaciously personal in their questions and indeed in the prurient inventiveness of the lies they did print. Andy for her part had nearly bitten her bottom lip through on several occasions trying to prevent herself from verbally castrating the bottom feeders when they shouted out their crass questions. And she was starting to get cramps in her knuckles from clenching her fists so tight in anger she kept restricting the blood flow to her fingers.

 

The intrusions and disruption were starting to affect Miranda as well, her temper was growing and her voice was dropping in volume by the day. Andy knew she needed to do something to relieve that pressure before the silver haired editor hit the point of melt down. The fact was she really didn’t want to have to try and forcefully tickle Miranda again, she figured now the woman knew what was coming she’d fight back a lot harder and it was likely Andy would end up with two black eyes and not by accident. 

 

So Andy spent the greater part of the morning and afternoon trying to figure out how to give Miranda a much needed break from the media attention. At about 4:00pm she thought she had something and went into Miranda’s office to speak with her about it. Andy ignored the editor’s command to get out because she was busy, after all she hadn’t even looked up from her computer when she said it and it was possible she didn’t realise it was Andy. Either way, the brunette ignored the instruction, shut the door firmly and took a seat across from the now glaring woman behind the desk.

 

“Miranda you need a break.” She put her hand up as the older woman started to say something scathing about needing not to be interrupted while she was working.

 

Andy stopped her in mid rant with a gentle request that she hear her out. Grudgingly reacting to the obvious concern in the younger woman’s voice, Miranda relented and sat back in her chair casually waving her hand for Andy to continue.  Andy for her part, valiantly fought the queasy feeling in her gut about what she was going to suggest, she knew it was a reasonably good plan, but had no idea if Miranda would go for it or not. She leaned forward resting her forearms on the desk and clasping her hands together before she continued.

 

“Right well, um I was thinking it would be good if you could just get away this weekend. Somewhere the media wouldn’t camp out in front of or even find out about, somewhere where you could hopefully relax a bit and get work done in peace if that’s what you needed or wanted to do.” She paused and ducked her head as she looked shyly up at the beauty sitting opposite her.

 

“And hopefully, umm, somewhere we might, well, might be able to get some time together. I’ve missed being able to hold you Miranda. I know it’s silly I mean it’s literally only been a week since…um…well since we first kissed and I shouldn’t be impatient but…”  Her stumbling words were brought to a halt by Miranda’s gentle squeeze of her clasped hands.

 

“I’d like that very much Andrea. Now what has your clever little brain come up with to make this a reality?” Miranda’s tone was gently, adoring and her remark on Andy’s cleverness was genuine rather than sarcastic as it had once been long ago. Andy perked up a bit and moved one of her hands to keep Miranda’s hands where they were. 

 

Knowing how Miranda loathed details, she decided not to _‘show her work’_ so to speak with the various ideas about hotels, going to see the girls and a few other thoughts she’d had, instead she went straight to the solution that had finally presented itself.

 

“Right, well what I thought was you could stay at my place this weekend. I know it’s not much or anything but, well it’s not exactly a slum or anything either. I’ve got cable and WiFi and we could sleep in the same bed and I thought maybe we could sort of arrange to have a Skype movie night with the girls so you’d get some time with them too and… well…” She saw the stunned look on Miranda’s face and her insecurities got the better of her for the first time since the previous week. She pulled her hands from Miranda’s grasp and started to stand up to leave.

 

“Sorry, stupid idea, really stupid idea Andy. I’ll just get back to…” Her standing up motion was halted by Miranda’s firm but friendly command to sit down, which she did immediately.

 

“Andrea, I think that’s a lovely idea and I’m pleased that you’d be willing to share your home with me that way just to give me a small reprieve from my tormentors.” She smiled before she continued.

 

“Pleased, but hardly surprised, you are an incredibly kind and generous person darling.”

 

The smile and the use of ‘darling’ completely melted Andy and she sagged in her chair relieved that her offer was being taken in the spirit it was intended. Miranda’s obvious pleasure in the invitation re-energised Andy’s self-confidence and she leaned forward once more to outline her plan for ditching the paparazzi. Their newest trick, begun yesterday, was that  a few of them had started following the town car whenever Miranda was seen to enter it, hoping one supposed that she might be caught off guard somewhere away from Runway or her home. Andy had identified this as the major stumbling block to her plan. If Miranda was followed to her apartment and seen to be staying there for the weekend, they’d be outed before they’d even truly started a relationship. It was this necessity that had prompted her _‘cunning plan’_. As she mapped out what to do, this phrase kept appearing in her mind’s eye with parenthesis around it, and she vowed to stop watching so much BBC America, or at least to stop watching so many Rowan Atkinson shows.

 

Andy knew Miranda had an early business dinner scheduled at Smith & Wollensky and being on excellent terms with most of their staff, Andy made arrangements that when Miranda was finished with her meeting she would not use the main exit of the restaurant when she left. Instead, she would be escorted by several staff members and use the exit on 49th Street furthest from the corner of 3rd Avenue. Here, Andy would be waiting for her in a different town car and the staff members would provide a shield against any wayward member of the press catching sight of Miranda as she made her escape. Roy would roll up to the main entrance an hour later, wait for ten minutes and then leave. If anyone was following him, they’d only be following him to his apartment.

 

Meanwhile Andy and Miranda would make their way to Andy’s apartment and no one would be the wiser… they hoped. Andy was fairly confident they’d pull it off as no one had been near her building since that Tuesday morning. Once inside they would have the whole weekend to relax and enjoy each other’s company. The only thing Andy had thought Miranda might not agree with was her request that she be allowed to leave the office by 5:00pm so she could get groceries and supplies for the weekend, but when she explained she would return to Runway to pick up the Book before their rendezvous on 49th Street, Miranda was happy she would be able to work over some of the weekend and deemed the plan acceptable.

 

****

 

Miranda moved quickly across the sidewalk toward the silver car one of the staff was holding the open door to, so distracted she didn’t even notice it was just a silver Toyota Corolla. As the door shut behind her she looked across to an empty seat and momentarily started to panic before the driver turned a familiar face toward her.

 

“Where to Miss?”  Andy intoned in a deep voice. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief before she turned forward and carefully pulled into traffic. She smiled at Miranda’s soft chuckle as they both instinctively glanced to the right as they passed the corner teeming with reporters being kept well away from the main entrance by security guards. Andy navigated the Friday evening traffic with skill and explained the change in vehicle to an attentive Miranda.

 

“When I got home earlier today it struck me that if we used a car service, or even a cab there was a risk of you being recognised and someone knowing where you were and being willing to sell that information. So I had my friend Doug rent a car for the weekend, that way my name is only down as a secondary driver and not on any of the main paperwork.” She glanced in the mirror at Miranda’s dumbfoundedly impressed expression. “I know it’s a bit excessive, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, and it has the added bonus that we can go somewhere if we want to or need to over the weekend.” Andy finished as she turned another corner, finally heading back toward her apartment, she’d taken a circuitous route to her building just in case she’d missed someone following them from the restaurant.

 

Fifteen minutes later Andy gave a tiny hoot of joy as she spotted a free parking space less than half a block from her building and quickly pulled the silver car into place. Miranda exited the back door at the same time as Andy got out of the driver’s seat. Andy had stopped by the townhouse when she left earlier in the day and had packed a weekend case for Miranda which she had already taken up to the apartment, so they had no luggage to carry, but Andy did grab the Book from the front passenger seat. They walked briskly but not hurriedly to Andy’s front step and made their way up to her apartment.

 

Andy was a little nervous about what Miranda would think about her home, but not excessively so, it was a pleasant space and she’d been on a cleaning binge for the past few nights so it was fit for company without any extra work today. Instead her afternoon had been spent getting Miranda’s bag, shopping for groceries for the weekend, including a good supply of fresh ground coffee and getting a wide selection of DVDs in case Miranda took her up on the idea of a movie night with the girls. She’d contacted the girl’s grandmother and asked her to pick up the same films for the following night so the twins would be able to set up on their end.

 

Miranda put her purse down on the kitchen table and looked around the kitchen/living room with interest. Andy took her coat and invited her to make herself at home while she went to hang the coat behind the bedroom door before she returned to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. She looked over to see Miranda examining her two, very full book cases and moved over to join the older woman. Miranda turned and smiled at her, reaching out to pull the brunette into her embrace.

 

“Thank you for this Andrea, I feel…” She leant forward so her forehead met Andy’s. “I feel safe.”

Andy pulled her into a full body hug and they just held each other, soaking in each other’s presence and the quiet around them. A few minutes later the silence was broken by Andy’s stomach giving a pronounced and lengthy growl, causing the brunette to blush and duck her head in embarrassment.  Miranda smiled knowingly and poked the Andy’s grumbling tummy.

 

“You didn’t have dinner did you?”

 

“Um, no, I didn’t have time, for lunch either actually.” Andy pulled away from Miranda and headed over to the kitchen. “I think I’ll make myself some soup and a sandwich. The coffee’s ready, just give me a minute to heat some milk in the microwave.” She was brought up short by a gentle pressure on her waist as Miranda gently steered her away from the fridge and guided her to sit down at the table before giving her a kiss on top of her head.

 

“I think you’ve done quite enough today Andrea. You are going to sit here and let me take care of you for a change.” She smiled down at her love and patted her shoulder before she slipped out of her four inch heels, setting them beside the bedroom door she moved back to the kitchen. For the next half hour Andy basked in Miranda’s care and attention, enjoying her tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwich as if it were haute cuisine.

 

Miranda sat with her, sipping her coffee and they talked a little about how Andy was coming along with her article. Andy had presented Miranda with a proper first draft on Thursday morning and the editor had reviewed it as strenuously as she would any submission, but was very pleased with Andy’s work. She’d made several notations and asked for more details in certain areas as well as clarification of one passage before returning it to Andy to rework before Monday.

 

Light meal finished and dishes done, both women naturally migrated to the couch, where they settled down to watch the last half of another Katherine Hepburn movie, Adam’s Rib. Andy was pleased, but hardly surprised to discover that Miranda was a fan of the Great Kate as well, and listened fascinated as Miranda related various stories she’d heard about the famous actress. The one that made Andy laugh the hardest and cemented her already deep admiration, was the tale of how some MGM producer told the actress no woman was going to wear trousers on his picture or his set so the following day Kate showed up in her underwear and told the producer he had the choice of this or her trousers, she didn’t care one way or the other but those were the only two choices.

 

They’d enjoyed the chance to cuddle and indulge in some lazy but enjoyable kissing but just past midnight they mutually decided it was time to get some sleep. Miranda went and prepared for bed first as Andy set the coffee maker up for the morning and turned the lights out. She dug out her usual nightwear of tank top and boy shorts and pecked Miranda on the cheek as they passed when Miranda emerged from the bathroom and Andy took her turn. 

 

Ten minutes later Andy joined Miranda in her bed, silently praying the older woman would find her Ikea mattress comfortable enough to sleep on, and then mentally snorted at herself when she realised this was the only thing she’d been worried about so far in regards to Miranda’s opinion of her living space. Another mental snigger and she was sure a good shrink would read a lot into that little dynamic. Miranda moved over so Andy could crawl in beside her and they had a brief exchange before agreeing on a 9:00am alarm, tomorrow was to be a day of minimum work and maximum relaxation and that meant a nice long lie-in in the morning.

 

Turning out the light Andy turned on her side and nuzzled into Miranda’s neck as she spooned her and laid her hand protectively and a little possessively around the older woman’s waist. They murmured there goodnights once more and as on the two previous times they’d shared a bed, they were both asleep in a matter of minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

The bleeping of the alarm clock slowly bored its’ way into Andy’s consciousness causing her to react in her usual defensive manner by burying her head under her pillow for a few more precious seconds of rest. Eventually she groaned and pulled the pillow away as she pushed up from the bed and whacked the offending mechanism to silence it. She sat up, her fuzzy morning brain registering several things at once; one the time was a gloriously late 9:00am, two the other side of the bed was empty so Miranda was already up and three there was someone singing in her kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and stroked over her scalp and ears with her hands to wake herself up properly and shook her head to dispel what must be an auditory hallucination. But this didn’t help as she could still hear the gentle strains of the Abba melody ‘Slipping Through My Fingers’ accompanied by the small sounds of fridge and cupboards opening and closing and the clink of crockery being set down. She decided this definitely merited investigation.

 

Miranda moved around the kitchen gathering the ingredients and tools needed to make omelettes. A particularly loud and angry car horn altercation had woken her close to 8:00am and unable to get back to sleep, she had spent some time absorbing the sight of a peacefully slumbering Andy, enjoying her beauty and the sense of wholeness she felt just being in the same room with the young woman. As she watched her love, she realised she’d never slept as deeply and restfully as she had the four nights she’d slept next to the brunette. Needing to use the bathroom had finally driven her from the bed and when she’d finished her morning ablutions and dressed in a very casual set of yoga pants and loose sweater she went in search of coffee.

 

The coffee maker had been set for 9:00 but Miranda started it as soon as she entered the kitchen before opening the fridge and noting with a smile how well stocked it was with so many of her preferred foods. She decided to make breakfast; after all she wanted this weekend to be a rest for Andy as well as for herself. As she worked her thoughts turned to her visit with the twins the previous weekend, sighing she thought how grown up they were getting and shuddered at the thought that they wouldn’t be her babies for much longer. These thoughts brought to mind one of her favourite Abba songs and she quietly began to sing as she worked.

 

Andy had stopped in the bedroom doorway looking into the kitchen and just watched Miranda as she went about gathering her ingredients and beginning to mix things in bowls, all the while singing the wistful little song. Andy’s heart swelled with affection and a warm sense of the rightness of this wonderfully domestic scene, a tiny grin making its’ way to her lips as the errant thought that the only thing missing was for Miranda to be wearing a frilly floral apron to make the scene complete. She must have made a noise or given a chuckle because Miranda stopped singing and glanced toward the door. Smiling she took in Andy’s sleep mussed hair and her lopsided grin as she made her way over to her a quick peck on the cheek and a morning greeting which the younger woman returned just as sweetly.

 

“That’s one of my favourite Abba songs, my mom used to sing it to me when I started middle school.” She leant forward and gave Miranda another kiss on the cheek. “And you have a wonderful voice. Is there anything you don’t do well?” Miranda’s cheeks shaded lightly as she answered.

 

“There are a great many things I don’t do well Andrea, however I try not to let people find too many of those things out for themselves. Now, why don’t you go and have a shower while I finish making breakfast.” Miranda shooed her away and went back to her preparations.

 

When Andy returned they shared a pleasant meal of mushroom and red pepper egg white omelettes, turkey bacon and whole wheat toast with coffee and conversation. They both smiled as they reached for a piece of toast and Miranda’s hand changed objective and settled over Andy’s free hand instead, where it stayed for the rest of the meal. When they were done, Andy gathered the dishes and started the water running into the sink to wash them.

 

“That was delicious Miranda, thanks for making breakfast, but lunch and dinner are on me okay.” Miranda murmured her agreement into Andy’s ear as she hugged her from behind.

 

“That’s a deal I can live with. Now I need to do some work.” She playfully swatted Andy’s rear as she stepped away toward the living room area. “And so do you.”  Andy glanced over her shoulder and smiled before assuring Miranda she’d be there in a minute.

 

Andy fetched her laptop from the bedroom before joining Miranda in the living room. The older woman was curled up at the end of the sofa with the Book in her lap and a stack of post it notes resting on her hip. Andy came and sat on the floor in front of Miranda, dragging the small coffee table forward to use as a desk. As they worked Miranda would absently stroke Andy’s shoulder or her hair with her free hand, giving a little hum of appreciation at their softness. At one point she concentrated her attention on the shell of Andy’s ear, where she gently stroked behind and over the contours of the ear before stroking and gently pulling on the earlobe and then repeating the process over again when Andy nodded her head back and gave a deep hum of appreciation.

 

“God, that feels so nice. I love having my ear tickled. My dad says he used to do it when I was a baby to help me go to sleep and he continued to do it whenever we’d watch TV together as I was growing up.” Andy nearly purred with pleasure when Miranda put the Book aside and moved her touch to Andy’s other ear. “My high school boyfriend and Nate used to try it, but they never did it right. Mmmmmm, god you’re perfect, I could sit here all day and let you do that.”  The brunette lolled her head back further, melting under Miranda’s gentle touch.

 

Miranda smiled as she spent a few more minutes indulging Andy’s obvious pleasure before kissing the top of her head and nudging her shoulder forward so her attention returned to her computer screen.

 

“More work now, breaks over.” She looked down over her glasses as Andy bent her head back flashing a contented grin. The younger woman snagged Miranda’s hand and pressed a brief kiss to her palm before murmuring her thanks and returning to her article.

 

At about 12:30, Andy got up and spent an hour in the kitchen putting together a quick but tasty homemade vegetable soup for lunch, which she served with equally homemade croutons she’d cooked yesterday. Miranda was impressed and even helped herself to a second bowl, a fact that had Andy beaming with satisfaction.

 

After they’d eaten Miranda called the girls and after an initial quiet chat transferred them to speaker phone so Andy could outline her plans for later that evening. The twins were totally taken with the idea of having a long distance movie night, and when Andy suggested that they pretend it was a slumber party they squealed in delight. The brunette had to bite her lip to stop her laughter when Cassidy earnestly enquired if her mother understood what to do at a slumber party.  Miranda shot Andy a mock glare as she assured her daughter that she’d been to a number of such parties when she was a girl and Caroline needn’t worry that she would be a wet blanket. Andy looked confused at the mention of the twin who hadn’t spoken until Caroline muttered a ‘thanks mom’ into the conversation and she realised that although Cassidy had done the asking, the question had actually been her sisters’ concern.

 

They spoke for a while longer hammering out film details, Miranda majorly impressed with Andy’s negotiating skills that had gotten the twins to agree not just to the modern fun of the animated film Madagascar but to the more classic family comedy of the original version of Yours Mine and Ours with Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda. The editor’s admiration in those skills waned somewhat when they were directed towards her in the dinner plans which ‘had’ to include pizza and popcorn and other such snacks, the older woman proved no match for her children’s pleas and the younger woman’s puppy dog eyes, so pizza it would be.

 

After the call Andy sat on the couch beside Miranda, reassuring her that she would make their pizzas herself and they wouldn’t be ordering some slab of carbs and oozing fatty processed cheese. Miranda grudgingly admitted that the thin crust, pesto, green pepper, olive and feta cheese creation Andy described would be bearable. Andy kept the twin surprises of white cheddar popcorn and Hagan Diaz cookie dough ice cream for a later revelation. Battle won; Andy leaned forward to give Miranda a conciliatory kiss, which lengthened into two kisses and then three, until they were wholly absorbed in a make out session in the Saturday mid-afternoon sunshine. Eventually snuggling together on the couch they both drifted off into a much needed afternoon nap.

 

When they woke it was almost four o’clock. Andy looked at Miranda’s still fatigued features and reached over to straighten her hair, leaving that wonderfully wilful forelock to the last. Smiling into sleepy blue eyes she stroked her fingers over Miranda’s cheek and down her neck till her hand rested on a warm, smooth shoulder.

 

“Hey beautiful. Listen, I know it’s just a small old claw foot tub, but what do you say to having a nice long hot soak, while I prep the pizza dough and get things ready for tonight.” She looked hopefully at the tired woman.

 

“You’re determined to pamper me to death aren’t you?” Miranda smiled and put her hand over Andy’s.

 

“Not to death, heaven forbid. But how about within an inch of your life?” She leaned forward and rested her head on Miranda’s forehead as she said this and looked into laughing blues eyes as she pulled back and kissed the dear little bump on that classic nose. Her heart skipped a beat as Miranda giggled, actually giggled in response.

 

“Right give me five minutes to set things up and I’ll come and get you.” Andy rose and headed to the bedroom.

 

An hour and a half later Miranda was a well relaxed heap on Andy’s couch, her feet propped up on a pillow in Andy’s lap as she received a very competent pedicure from the younger woman. _‘Within an inch of her life’_ indeed she thought as she snuggled back into the cushions behind her while they both continued to watch Andrea’s favourite movie of all time, Stage Door. Miranda was pleased if somewhat bemused by Andy’s liking for old movies and classic film stars and a small frown furrowed her brow as she wondered if their age difference put her in a similar category to the young brunette as her collection of classic Hepburn films. _‘Don’t be an ass Miranda, you were born in 1956 not 1926.’_ Self-admonishment accepted she returned her attention to the television screen.

 

At 7:00pm Andy logged into Skype and was almost immediately treated to two excited red heads bouncing with excitement on her screen. Laughing she called Miranda over to say hello and watched as the girls cajoled their mother into getting into the proper spirit of having a slumber party by insisting she go and put her pyjamas on. Andy’s sniggers were cut short when the twins turned their sights on her and she ended up following Miranda into the bedroom to dig out an acceptable pair of PJs.

 

Appropriate attire worn by all, the group of four proceeded to watch the cartoon first, both webcams were angled so each pair could view the other as they watched and hear any comments they wanted to share. It really was almost like they were all in the same room. During the first film Miranda’s attention was far more focused on her daughters and the woman seated beside her as the three bantered and chattered away about favourite characters and what might happen next. She pulled a pillow up to cover her laughter at the twin’s squawk of indignation when Andy called out, _“Potty break!”_ and hit pause before heading off to the bathroom.  In her absence the twins vented their annoyance at the childish term, did Andy think they were little kids or something. Miranda re-assured them that Andy didn’t think that and mentioned that Andy had in fact reminded Miranda on more than one occasion that they weren’t all that little anymore.  This garnered a grudging acknowledgement from Caroline and a grinning, _“Awesome!”_ from Cassidy.

 

An intermission was called between the films so Andy could get their pizza out of the oven, and Elizabeth could bring the girls’ delivery pizza in to the den on a tray with plenty of napkins. Their grandmother waved hello to the two women sitting in New York and left the little family to their fun, despite an invitation to join the party from both Miranda and the twins. Making her way back to the kitchen she had a knowing little smile on her lips as she wondered how long it would take her grand-daughters to figure out that that was what they were, a family, Andy very much included.

 

The twins mounted another ambush just before they started the second film by insisting that Andy and their mom cuddle down under sleeping bags like they were doing. Andy pointed out she didn’t have a sleeping bag but obligingly dragged the quilt from the bed out into the living room and tucked Miranda up on her end of the couch as she crawled under cover at her end. As she settled in and pressed play, she gave a mental high five to the twins’ idea as her feet were pulled into Miranda’s lap and she was treated to a lengthy foot massage.

 

Yours, Mine and Ours was deemed a hit by the twins and Caroline who had seen the recent re-make at a friend’s house, declared the original a 1000% better in comparison. As it was only a little after 10:00, Miranda allowed the girls to pick a third film to watch and they chose Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which had been included in the selection because Andy knew they’d like it. An hour after the film started Andy noticed that both girls were fast asleep, oblivious to the noises of Harry battling the Basilisk and she sent a text to their grandmother, a few minutes later Elizabeth came into view as she stood in front of the girls’ computer.

 

“Well, it appears the slumber party was a success.” She spoke quietly and had not yet turned off the television so the sound further muffled what she was saying from the sleeping twins. She chatted with them for a little while getting updates on what was happening in NYC and letting them know how the girls were doing in their continued exile. They wound down and bid each other goodnight before she disconnected the call and the computer screen went blank.

 

Andy and Miranda tidied up together, moving in a natural manner through all the little domestic chores before dragging the quilt back to the bedroom and snuggling down under its’ comforting warmth as they drifted off to sleep, Andy once again holding Miranda close, their breathing in sync and letting out stereo sighs of contentment before Morpheus welcomed them to equally contented dreams.

 

On Sunday it was Andy who woke first, long before the 9:00am alarm call. She showered and made breakfast, which she brought back to share with Miranda in bed with the Sunday paper. Although well relaxed and enjoying the weekend very much, Andy could tell toward the end of the morning that Miranda was starting to go a little stir crazy. Talking it out with the older woman confirmed her impressions and she pulled out one of the several contingency plans she had for this happening sometime over the weekend.  A little discussion and she’d convinced Miranda of its’ viability and less than 30 minutes later they were both in the silver Corolla heading for Brooklyn.

 

Miranda was dressed extremely casually in a pair of Andy’s True Religion jeans, a plain white silk blouse and Andy’s navy sports jacket for warmth. She was also practical and wearing only two inch heels; and to Andy’s great joy and constant driving distraction as she took her eyes off the road and slid her gaze sideways again and again to drink her fill of the sight, she was also wearing Andy’s black Northwestern Wildcats baseball cap.

 

The woman looked hot, but more importantly even though the cap only partially hid the iconic white coif, Andy knew people who saw the cap and the jeans would never make the leap to the conclusion that the woman wearing it who might _‘look’_ like Miranda Priestly, was indeed _the_ Miranda Priestly, because there was no way that the infamous fashion maven would be caught dead in a baseball cap and jeans. Andy smiled wolfishly at the predictability of people’s preconceived ideas and said a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the trait.

 

They spent a large chunk of the middle of the day strolling round the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, enjoying the exhibitions and listening to an interesting presentation on the importance of the spring months for planting projects that would take the attraction through their busiest six months of the year. Andy enjoyed the display of daffodils fascinated with the range of colouration from near transparent white to the far more familiar bright yellow and all the shades in between.  When they grew tired of the plants and trees, Andy took Miranda to a lovely little family run Chinese restaurant she and Lily had found the first month they’d been in New York. They had an early dinner before returning to Andy’s apartment where they both settled into an early evening of work and companionship.

 

Andy finished the re-writes on her submission for Runway and waited nervously as Miranda reviewed the article before the editor lowered her glasses and looked up at Andy and pronouncing.

 

“I’d say you’re wasted as an assistant but I can’t.” She hurried on when she saw the hurt leak into those soulful brown eyes. “I can’t say that Andrea because you’ve been the best assistant I’ve ever had, and to me that was not a waste, you made my job easier in ways even I had never imagined possible. That said, this…” She pointed at the computer screen. “This is excellent; I only wish all our submissions were half as good as this in only two drafts.”  She looked up at Andy and gave her a little smile. “I’m very pleased Andrea. This will be the lead piece in the June issue.”

 

Andy smiled in return but her mind was processing Miranda’s continued use of the past-tense in relation to her job and the reality suddenly struck her that she was going to have to quit, maybe not this week or even next, but it was going to have to be soon and she really didn’t know what she was going to do. Being involved with the media frenzy around Miranda had made her completely rethink her original desire to become a news journalist. Taking her computer back she glanced down at her own work and realised that she already had a leg up if she wanted to look into doing some freelance writing for magazines or other publications, when June rolled round she was going to be a published in one of the top ten selling magazines in the world. Saving her work and e-mailing to Miranda’s account she vowed to start asking around to see if any publications were looking for submissions.

 

Midnight found the two women once again snuggled down in Andy’s bed enjoying a time of sweet lingering kisses and random gentle caresses as they talked about everything and nothing. Miranda suddenly squeezed the younger woman to her chest and whispered in her ear.

 

“Thank you Andrea. Thank you so very much. This weekend has been amazing, the rest and the quiet, the time with the girls…” she stroked dark strands back behind Andy’s ear before continuing. “But most of all, just being with you has healed and helped me more than you can possibly imagine. You my darling are a wonder.”

 

Andy smiled and cuddled closer, tucking her head under Miranda’s chin.

 

“I’m so glad you trusted me enough to take me up on the offer Miranda. I’d do anything to make your life even a little bit better. I always will, so long as you let me, I always will.” Her voice faltered a little, the emotions behind the declaration tumbling together and causing her throat to close up a little. She loved this woman, and she desperately wanted to say the words out loud despite the fear that it was too soon, or that Miranda might not feel as strongly about her as she did about Miranda. Pulling back a little and looking up into welcoming eyes, she saw her exact thoughts mirrored in those thoughtful pools of blue. Daring herself she threw caution to the wind.

 

“I love you Miranda. I really love you. It’s as simple and as maddeningly complicated as those three little words. I love you. All the details, all the obstacles can just take a backseat for a second because I want you to know and be sure about that.” She kept her gaze steady and continued to look deeply into Miranda’s eyes, willing her to know the reality of her statement.

 

Miranda smiled at Andy and it was like a blinding light to the younger woman. The smile wasn’t huge, it didn’t stretch across her face, it wasn’t a laughing smile, lips parted and teeth visible, none of the signs that might usually be used to gage the magnitude of emotion resting in the smile were there on her lips, no, they were in the depths of her eyes. Miranda’s smile didn’t _‘reach’_ her eyes, it started in their twinkling depths and radiated out to her lips and the rest of her body. Moving forward so their noses were almost touching she breathed out her own ‘simple’ declaration.

 

“I love you Andrea Sachs. I love you.  Simple or complicated, those three words are mine as well as yours.” They kissed and the promise of forever was in the softness of lips and tongue and the warm breath of gentle sighs. Tomorrow would bring what it would bring and it would be dealt with from the new knowledge of those three simple words belonging to each of them.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing Miranda/Andy  
> Rating: Um PG 13 maybe... eventually?  
> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to whoever wrote or owns DWP, lucky sods. The characters etc. aren’t mine but I’d sure as hell put in a bid if they ever came up for sale. No profit, yadda, yadda, if TPTB didn’t know what to do with the characters they should have consulted the Rabid Lesbian Horde, yadda, jabber, rhubarb, I dare ya to sue me, I’d love the opportunity to read femmeslash smut out loud in court.. Pfffftt!  
> For more disclaimers - See Part 1
> 
> A/N 1: I looked up the possible penalties for the charges I’ve listed against Stephen and the figures I’ve quoted are I believe reasonably accurate.

 

Monday morning saw Andy dropping Miranda off at a Starbucks about eight blocks from Elias Clarke at 7:30am, here she waited a mere five minutes before Roy rolled up and took her the remainder of the way to work. Andy then took almost an hour to return the car and make her own way to Runway, stopping off at their regular Starbucks for the morning’s coffee run. She smiled at the man who took the car back, she smiled at the people on the subway, at the little boy who smiled back at her from a bus window and at the barista who handed over her coffee; she was in an excellent mood after her wonderful weekend with Miranda.

Unfortunately her good mood evaporated the minute she spotted the Elias-Clarke building which was once again swarming with the media; press and television, both local and national. Andy blanched wondering what had happened to cause this kind of reaction and picked up her pace to a near run. Using her momentum, determination and the threat of scalding coffee, she pushed through the crowd like a hot knife through butter, fetching up at the main doors where she was pulled inside by Little John. She managed to get out a one word question.

“Miranda?”

Little John responded quickly reassuring Andy that the editor was safe and upstairs in her office, so with her immediate fear assuaged, Andy hurried to the elevator.

When Andy arrived on Runway’s floor, she barrelled past Emily, Serena and Nigel without a single word. She went straight into Miranda’s office, automatically shutting the door behind her. Miranda was sitting in her office chair staring at the cell phone she held in her hand, a look of shock etched on her face.

Andy rushed over to her, haphazardly setting the tray of coffees on the desk corner, she quickly made her way around the desk and knelt in front of Miranda. She took hold of the older woman’s ice cold hand and reached up with her free hand to turn the beloved face above her so that she could look directly at her.

“Miranda, what happened? What’s going on? Are you okay?” her worry wouldn’t let her pause to allow the editor to respond.

Miranda blinked a few times before her hand went slack and her cell phone fell to the desk with a soft thud. She blinked again and her eyes finally focused on the concerned chocolate gaze of the girl at her feet. She spoke, her voice soft with surprise.

“It’s over.”

For a moment Andy’s heart stopped beating, was Miranda referring to their budding relationship? This terrifying thought was quickly banished when the older woman pulled her up into a fierce hug and repeated what she’d said.

“It’s over Andrea, it’s over!”

Andy returned the embrace before gently disengaging and pulling away to seek clarification.

“What’s over Miranda? Please Sweetheart I need to know what’s happened.”

Miranda stood up, pulling Andy with her and guiding the brunette over to the couch where they could be comfortable. When they sat down Miranda waved a hand back toward her desk.

“I’ve just been on the phone with A.D.A Cabot. She called to tell me that…” Miranda paused and took a deep cleansing breath. “…to tell me that Stephen has pled guilty to all charges and accepted a plea bargain.” She looked at Andy as her lips started to form a tentative smile. “There won’t be a trial Andrea, no one else will need to see that damned video.”

The older woman explained how she’d arrived to a small press presence and made her way easily to her office only to be informed by the security desk about a half hour later that the media frenzy had exploded outside the building and more reporters and news vans were arriving every few minutes. She’d immediately called the A.D.A, but had initially gone to her voice mail as had her calls to the detectives in the SUV unit, and the young A.D.A had only just returned her call.

Alex had explained that she’d offered the plea deal the previous week and Stephen had refused, but it appeared that a full week’s experience of the joys of Ryker’s Island and possibly the enforced sobriety had softened his resolve. The video evidence was just too damming to form a defence against, that coupled with his stupid assaults on the police and contempt of court charge meant his lawyer had not been very hopeful and so had urged him to accept the plea when it was offered the second time. Andy stopped her there and asked her the key question.

“How long?”

“Twelve years, possibility of parole in eight.” Miranda answered. “Not nearly enough, but at least it means not struggling through a long and invasive trial.”

Andy’s mind reconciled the twelve year sentence with what she knew Stephen might have faced if he’d been convicted of all the charges against him. Being who she was, she’d looked up the likely penalties for all the offenses and found that the man had potentially been looking at 52 years in prison. Even if the judge hadn’t given the maximum sentences or if he’d allowed the nine charges of extortion to be served concurrently, he’d been looking at a minimum of 19 years.

Andrea figured the eight to twelve years wasn’t enough given he’d been preying on women for so long, and it would never be enough for his attempt to hurt her Miranda. The brunette’s mind skittered to a halt with the wording of her last thought, _her Miranda_. Well damn it, yes she was _her_ Miranda and she was Miranda’s Andrea just as much.

Andy looked at the older woman, still a little dumbfounded as she tried to process this amazing turn of events her mind feeling like it was slogging through quicksand. Quite suddenly her stomach dropped and she felt dizzy and nauseous as she experienced the sudden drop from her earlier adrenaline rush. She bent forward and put her head between her knees until she felt less like she was going to pass out. Miranda seemed to understand what was happening and traced gentle circles on her back. Eventually the brunette felt well enough to sit up and ask for more details from Miranda.

Miranda reported that due to the statutory rape charge Stephen had pled to, Alex assured her he would be serving his sentence in a proper prison, not one of the minimum security open prisons to which so many white collar criminals were sent. The young A.D.A had also taken pleasure in pointing out to Miranda that she had heard from several of the other victim’s lawyers that they would be taking out private suits against the man and suing him for the blackmail money they’d paid over to him and of course for damages as well. Just as Miranda had wanted Stephen would continue to pay and it looked like he would, given the top flight lawyers involved, be paying for the rest of his life.

The two women sat back on the couch, both trying to process the amazing turn-about in events. Andy felt like she was in an episode of Star Trek, caught in some kind of temporal distortion as she kept mentally repeating the phrase, _‘A week, everything has changed in a little over a week! How can all of this have happened in so short a time?’_ the question finding no answer as it looped in her mind. She found herself letting the loop continue if only to avoid allowing the logical follow up question of, _‘What now?’_ from taking its’ place, she really didn’t want to think about that yet.

Miranda was in a similar mental state, her thoughts running hither and thither looking for something on which to focus. Having spent the past week summoning and refining her anger in order to go into the first battle in what had promised to be a bloody and drawn out war, Miranda seemed unsure what to think or how to process the sudden defeat and removal of her enemy. As she thought of metaphors to explain how wrong footed she felt, a sudden twisted version of one of her father’s favourite films flashed in her mind’s eye. It was, she felt, like the scene in Spartacus where Kirk Douglas stands up to say he is Spartacus, only to have dozens of his followers beat him to it each calling out, “I’m Spartacus!” The twist being that in her version the many fake Spartacus’ then proceed to attack and completely defeat the Romans leaving herself as the real and stunned Spartacus on an empty battlefield, victorious but not by her own hand.

After a few minutes Andy finally took hold of Miranda’s hand gave it a gentle squeeze before she voiced some of what they were both feeling.

“Well heck, it’s all kind of anticlimactic isn’t it?” She smiled ruefully at the older woman.

The sheepish grin on her beloved’s face broke Miranda from her own stupor and she let loose with a great shout of laughter.

“Anticlimactic? You could say that. Yes my dear, like expecting a nuclear bomb and ending up with a party popper instead.”

They both broke down then and laughed until they had tears in their eyes. Miranda described her image of the Spartacus metaphor and Andy snorted in amusement at the idea of anyone making a claim to be Miranda, she was truly one of a kind.

***

Needless to say the press were once again rabid for a reaction from all parties concerned in the case against Stephen. Miranda continued with her work as she had the previous week, not allowing them to slow her down one bit. She’d hoped the lack of a trial would have allowed the twins to return home, but after a discussion with Andy she decided to have them stay in Connecticut for a while longer. Her maternal instincts were proved correct when there was a nasty spike of renewed interest in Miranda in particular toward the end of the following week when they discovered the Editor had received her final divorce decree in record time, her lawyers having been successful in getting it pushed through the courts as quickly as humanly possible.

Andy delivered the Book on the day the divorce was finalised at the ridiculously early time of 8 pm as per special instructions from Miranda who had gone straight from the court to the townhouse earlier in the evening. Roy got out with her and elbowed a way through the throng of rabid reporters, Andy following behind with her load of dry cleaning and the Book. When she got to the top of the steps she made a point of speaking loudly enough for the vultures below to hear.

“You don’t need to wait Roy. Miranda wants to go over next week’s schedule and the preliminary planning for the September issue. I have no idea when we’ll be finished but I’ll call a car when I need to leave.” She smiled at the man as he relieved her of the dry cleaning long enough for her to get her key out and into the lock. Taking his cue from Andy he also spoke loudly.

“Damn, the September issue already? You’ll be lucky if you get out of there before 1 am. Hell a couple years running Miranda had one of her assistants staying here over night in the guest room so they could work till 4 am and still get a couple hours sleep before they were both back in the office at 8 am the next day.” He winked at her as he handed the dry cleaning back. “Tell you what, text me if you end up stuck here and I’ll come by early enough to swing you by your place for some fresh clothes for work.”

Andy laughed at his blatant help in laying a logical premise to cover her spending several hours or even the whole night with Miranda. Roy was the only one who knew about her and Miranda and it was obvious that he was giving them his blessing and his help. Smiling into his kind green eyes, Andy assured him she’d let him know what was happening…as soon as Miranda let her know what was happening. Chuckling, the two turned in opposite directions, Roy going back to the car and Andy pushing the door open before quickly entering the foyer and shutting it firmly behind her.

Andy placed the Book on its’ usual table and then struggled with the larger than usual amount of dry cleaning needing to step completely into the closet to properly hang up the nearly two dozen hangers containing blouses, skirts and jackets. When everything was neatly hung she stepped out of the closet and straight into Miranda’s arms. Without preamble the older woman pulled her close and kissed her so thoroughly that Andy started to see stars. Eventually letting the younger woman pull away for some much needed deeper breaths, Miranda smiled and stroked the back of her hand across Andy’s cheek.

“Mmmm, I’ve been waiting all day to do that.” Miranda moved in for a second kiss and a third. Andy returned the older woman’s passion with her own and allowed her hands to move up the statuesque neck to play with the soft white hair her questing fingers found as she pulled Miranda in for more kisses.

After a few more minutes of mutual bliss Miranda finally moved back and allowed Andy to properly step out of the closet into the foyer. She kept tight hold of one of her hands leading the brunette toward the kitchen. Andy gasped when they arrived in the comfortably familiar room, now transformed into a new guise of romantic date scene. The room was lit only by the small light over the oven and two ivory candles in the centre of the kitchen table. Said table was spread with a plain linen tablecloth and two place settings of fine china and crystal wine glasses. Between the two tapers was a small vase containing a single, but perfect rose, its’ satiny red petals absorbing the soft light of the candles.

Andy pulled Miranda back to her side wrapping her arm around a slim waist as she gazed fondly into sparkling blue eyes. After a heartbeat Andrea raised her eye brow slightly and Miranda shyly nodded affirmation to the unvoiced question that yes this was all for her, all for her Andrea.

“This is amazing Miranda.” Andrea leaned in and kissed Miranda’s cheek. “You’re amazing.” She smiled and kissed the other cheek. “Wonderful.” A peck to the forehead. “Brilliant.” She pulled back a little bit and with a sly grin gave a final quick kiss to the beloved little bump on Miranda’s nose before smilingly finishing. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Miranda chuckled and gave a cheeky smile, “This is something you hadn’t realised Andrea? Tsk, tsk, a writer needs to be far more observant my dear.”

Andy laughed happily at that. “Oh I knew it well enough, I was just _reporting_ it.” She smiled at Miranda’s answering chuckle and allowed herself to be nudged toward one of the seats. She paused before actually sitting down to enquire if there was anything she could do to help.

“Yes, could you get the bottle of Syrah over there and pour for us while I grill the salmon and set the asparagus to steam.” She kissed Andy’s cheek, “Then have a seat, dinner will only take about 10 minutes.” She then retrieved the apron she’d been using carefully pulling it over her head and tying it round her waist before moving over to the oven.

Andy did as she was asked, taking the time to read the label on the wine, it was a type of red she’d never had before so she gave the bottle a little sniff before she poured the rich purple/black liquid into the waiting glasses. The scent had been rich and earthy with a hint of berries and spice, and she noted that her mouth was watering to have a taste.

Taking the seat Miranda had indicated was hers Andy ignored the wine in favour of watching Miranda cook. She’d enjoyed the experience of Miranda expertly treating her to a breakfast fit for a king the previous weekend and knew the woman knew her way around a frying pan. It was even more enjoyable to watch her in a kitchen with which she was completely familiar, her movements and actions fluid and certain as she moved from stove to steamer and back again. Andy was mesmerised and only broken from her trance when her own stomach betrayed her with a very loud rumble just as she caught the delicious scent of the grilling salmon.

Miranda looked up at the sound and wagged her finger at her girlfriend. Her finger halted mid-wag as the appellation she’d used smacked her in the consciousness. _Girlfriend!?_ Her body tensed in surprise and she looked over at the blushing brunette who had both hands pressed across her stomach sheepishly trying to quieten down her belly’s vocal display. As suddenly as the stiffness had arrived it left and Miranda relaxed into the warm, warm feeling the word elicited as she thought again. ‘Girlfriend? Yes, my Andrea, my girlfriend.’ She gave the woman in question a blinding smile and then continued to cook and serve their dinner.

They sat and enjoyed a flavourful repast peppered with equally flavourful conversation that ran the gamut of the divorce, Runway, Andy’s pleasure at the surprise date, Roy’s noisy information dropping from earlier, the girls and how they were doing having been away from school for more than a week, Andy’s underdeveloped wine palette and Miranda’s 101 recipes for salmon. It was all blissfully domestic and, as Andy found herself thinking more than once, it was like they’d been doing this all their lives, comfortable and trusting each in the other. Their meal long finished they eventually let go of each other’s hand and rose together to tackle the clean-up. When the kitchen was once again spotless and the dishwasher was humming away, Miranda pulled Andy into her arms bending her head to lazily nuzzle her neck for just a moment before looking into very contented brown eyes.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal Miranda, and even more wonderful company.” Andy leant in for a quick peck on those beautiful lips to which she decided she was definitely addicted.

“My pleasure I assure you Andrea. I told you I’m determined to use every single one of those 101 recipes for salmon.” Eyes glinting with mischief she continued. “Your obvious enjoyment of the cedar plank fillets does mean that you are now the official salmon guinea pig. The girls loathe salmon as does their father.” She faltered slightly as if she was going to add more to the statement but refused to tag on the similar information about Stephen. As far as she was concerned if she never had to say the vile creature’s name out loud again she’d be quite happy.

Andy sensed what had caused the distracted pause and gently rubbed Miranda’s back as she cheerfully accepted her new status of culinary guinea pig. Miranda smiled at her before giving a resigned little sigh.

“I really must go over the Book now I’m afraid. The accessories department hadn’t submitted the stills for pages 17 and 20 when I left for court and I need to see how many heads will roll tomorrow.” She finished with that now tell-tale little roll of her shoulders and Andy sniggered as she left her arm around Miranda’s slender waist and began walking them both down the hall to the Study.

“No problem, I’ll just get the Book and see you set up before I call a car.”

The final part of her statement was said with a note of regret and a little uncertainty. Miranda knew from their dinner conversation that they had a cover story that would allow her to remain for hours yet or even all night but Andy however hopeful that Miranda would use the cover, hadn’t wanted to assume she would make that choice. They’d arrived at the study but Miranda didn’t release her hold on Andy.

“Hmmm, it would be a waste not to make use of Roy’s efforts don’t you think?” She lifted a hand and brushed back a lock of brown silk tucking the errant hair behind a delicate ear. “Will you stay with me tonight my Andrea?”

Andy gave her a gentle, satisfied smile and nodded.

“Tonight and every night you’ll have me, love.”

Noting the older woman’s blush at the endearment Andy shooed her into the study and went to get the Book and gather her own bag which she’d dumped under the table when Miranda had ambushed her earlier. Throwing the huge carry all style Prada bag over her shoulder she caught sight of the envelope sticking out of the outer pocket and her stomach did a flip at the reminder of a difficult discussion she needed to have with Miranda.

Andy returned to the study handing the Book to Miranda who had settled at her desk.

“Here you go I hope Accessories got their act together.” Andy smiled at the older woman.

“I’m just gonna settle on the couch and…” She blushed and ducked her head a bit. “Umm well I’m going to work on this article I, um well.” Miranda looked up from the Book to see Andy still standing beside the desk shuffling from one foot to another like a naughty school girl. The image compounded when Andy started to rub the back of her neck before she continued.

“Article?” Miranda enquired.

“Aww hell, get a grip Sachs.” She mumbled toward her feet before she finally raised her head and stopped fidgeting. She moved to sit in the chair in front of the desk and reached into her bag for the small envelope, pulling it into her lap before taking a deep breath to answer Miranda’s still quirked eyebrow.

“I really enjoyed writing the article for Runway.” She ducked her head and continued speaking but not meeting Miranda’s eyes. “It reminded me of what I really want to do, the reason I came to New York in the first place, so I could write.”

She looked up then, her eyes brimming with all kinds of emotion; gratitude, concern, uncertainty, eagerness and determination all rolled into a single look.

“I put some feelers out last week and found out that New York Magazine was looking for a couple of articles for their October issue. I…well… I pitched them an idea and they liked it, the Features editor gave me the go ahead for a 2500 word article. Miranda I promise this won’t interfere with my work, I’ll be doing it on my own time and well it isn’t due for eight weeks yet and I have to…I mean I want to talk about…” Andy petered out not sure how to move on to the most important part of what she needed to tell the editor, uncertain how Miranda would react.

“I thought you wanted to work for a newspaper Andrea?” Miranda’s voice was carefully neutral.

“Yeah well, let’s just say that the past few weeks have been more than an eye opener for me Miranda. I mean some of the worst of that bunch weren’t even from the gossip rags, they were from what are supposed to be legitimate journalistic newspapers like the Times and the Herald.” Andy snorted and glared as she shook her head. “I still want to write, I still want to be a journalist, and I just think I might be able to maintain my integrity better if I work freelance.” She gave another rueful little snort before adding. “Of course I’ll probably have to get a second job to pay the rent but it’ll still be worth it.”

“Why would you need another job Andrea? Does Runway not pay enough for you to cover your obligations?” The older woman looked sadly and knowingly at Andy, her voice a little wistful. She knew now where this conversation was headed and was not happy at the destination.

Andy immediately picked up on the sadness and moved so she was beside Miranda behind the desk. She bent down on one knee, holding the envelope in one hand and reaching for one of Miranda’s hands with the other.

“Miranda.” She raised the hand she held to her lips kissing each knuckle. “Miranda, despite the unusual circumstances that brought us together, I really do want to be with you so much. I mean I want it all Love; I want to hold you every night and talk about our day together, cook for you, have you cook for me, give you back rubs and foot rubs, have pizza nights with the girls, help them with their homework, go on vacations the four of us together.” She leaned up and gave her love a searing kiss.

“I want to make love with you so very much, I ache for it.” She stroked one sculpted cheek bone with the back of her hand before continuing in a gentle, regretful voice. “But I can’t do all that if I’m still working for you, it wouldn’t be right.”

Andy held up the envelope for Miranda to see before setting it on the desk beside them.

“That’s my four weeks ‘notice.” She went down on both knees leant forward and as a final note of trust she lowered her head onto Miranda’s lap, releasing the other woman’s hand which immediately began to stroke through Andy’s hair. Getting comfortable, she sat and folded her legs underneath her before she continued in a subdued murmur.

“I hate the idea of not seeing you every day, of not being there to make your day go smoothly, make your life that little bit easier in any way I can.” She curled an arm around Miranda’s leg and clung to her “God! Miranda I hope you want those things too, I, don’t know what I’d do if you changed your mind now.” Her words were brought to a halt as her insecurities got the better of her and she couldn’t fight the tears or the small sob that went with them.

At first Miranda stared at the deceptively innocuous piece of paper on the desk, the horrid piece of paper that spelled the end of so many things, the very least of which was the loss of an exceptionally capable assistant. Andrea was leaving her, kept rolling through her mind. How was she supposed to get through a work day without Andy’s blinding smile and gentle voice to buoy her up? How could she go for more than a day without feeling that sense of calm, and now that she knew it for what it was the sense of being truly cared for that the young woman had brought into her life?

Her fingers sifted through silky strands of the young woman’s hair for another minute before her

brain finally registered the sound of a sob and she felt Andrea’s hold on her leg tighten. Her hand stopped mid-stroke and she looked down at the woman at her feet. The woman silently crying! Crying? Andrea was crying. That was not acceptable! She reached down and pulled Andrea up even as she rose herself till they were both standing, she guided them to the couch and sat down, pulling the brunette into a firm embrace as she made soothing sounds and rubbed gentle circles on her back.

“Shhh, it’s alright Andrea; my brave, brave Andrea.” She kissed the top of the girl’s head. “Thank you for being bold enough to act on this, you’re right of course, much as I hate the idea of not having you by my side every day at the office…”

She pulled Andrea’s face up so she could look into her eyes. “The opportunity to have you here in my life, in the girls’ lives...”

She ignored the tear stains and sniffling and leant forward brushing pale pink lips in a gentle kiss.

“This opportunity to love you, to be loved by you,” Miranda gave a playful tap to Andrea’s nose, her lip quirking into the tiniest of rueful smiles as she continued. “It’s worth putting up with the thousand incompetent replacements that will follow you as my assistant.” She bent to the young woman’s ear before speaking in a sultry whisper. “You will just have to compensate me for the inconvenience in other ways.” She nibbled the earlobe causing Andrea to shiver. “I’ve already started a list of suitable ways you can make it up to me.”

Andrea let her had fall back as she gave a joyful bark of laughter and relief. Smiling Andy pulled her love into a series of deep, satisfying kisses before moving away and pulling her into an upright position. Stroking down the older woman’s arm she stood up drawing Miranda with her till they were standing in a loose embrace.

“Mmmm okay, you make that list and I’ll sign the I.O.U.” She led Miranda back to her desk, giving her a quick kiss before she sat down. “Now, we both have work to do so no more dramatics for tonight.”

Andy stroked a finger down Miranda’s cheek finishing with a tap to her nose before she went back to the couch and pulled out her laptop. Some minutes later, computer booted up, she settled back sighing in satisfaction at the background sound of Miranda flipping pages and scribbling notes. Casting a final look at the older woman she allowed the feeling of contentment to wash over her before she pulled up her article and set to work.

 


End file.
